


R E M N A N T E D

by ArtMun



Category: RWBY
Genre: (kinda???? it's complicated), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Comedy, Drama, Dramedy, Other, Rating May Change, Retcon Timeline, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26616565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtMun/pseuds/ArtMun
Summary: Despite what many wish to claim and believe, everyone doesn't really want to end up in their favorite media. Especially the complicated world of Remnant. A task from the Gods that is also a bet, breaking the fourth wall, telling the characters that they themselves are representations of fairytales, in a world where they are already in reality fairytales of their own?Shit's about to get weird.
Relationships: (still mulling over)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. *Insert stereotypical self-insert fic title here* (Yes, that’s really the title)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fanifction includes...  
> swearing, depictions of illnesses in severe cases, PTSD, violence, fourth wall breaking, swearing, meta commentary on society in reality and Remnant, mentions of death, an obscene amount of classical and fairytale references, and finally...swearing.

To say that Ozpin’s day was not going how he had planned, nor expected, was…a bit of an understatement. If he were somehow told this morning by Glynda as she relayed his schedule to him that morning exactly what was happening at this very moment, it would be something along the lines of…say—

_“…and at precisely 2:00 p.m., a girl is going to fall into your office from the ceiling, in the middle of your rare physical meeting with all the members of our circle present. It will happen right before team STRQ is scheduled to come so you may brief them about the true dangers of the world and give them the option to fight against it. Oh yes, and this girl is not going to stop screaming, no matter what methods or approaches any of us take.”_

That was exactly what was happening right now. As of this moment, it was 2:02 p.m. in the city of Vale, and no matter how hard he, or anyone else tired, she simply…well—

She really would not stop screaming! It was as alarming as it was admittedly frustrating.

But in all fairness, based on her current state, it would exactly be incorrect to say it wasn’t warranted. She looked disheveled. Well, perhaps that was sugarcoating it a bit. She was a _mess_. Her short hair was frayed and sticking up in ways that certainly did not seem intentional, she was covered with bruises and scrapes, and she seemed to have been caught completely unawares, if her dressed in pajamas and having no shoes made anything apparent.

The screaming had stopped at least. But she was still babbling, and she was talking in rapid-fire fragmented sentences with sprinklings of curses that could make any grizzled native in Vacuo blush. Or laugh out loud. 

Maybe she was from there. Perhaps a semblance involving travel or some sort of teleportation had kicked in? It wouldn’t exactly be out of the question. She looked the average age for when semblances often awakened, and there _have_ been cases where those who did have teleportation semblances often would pop into random locations without realizing. Anyone would be alarmed to suddenly find oneself in bed one moment, and in a place where they were certain they did not belong the next.

He could relate to the feeling.

When team STRQ had entered, Glynda was quick to usher them away again. They had caught glimpse of the girl, and naturally, had many questions. But they had no answers, so it was best to simply take care of the matter at hand.

The girl was frazzled, but she had calmed down until she had caught sight of the recently graduated huntsmen. Her eyes, somehow, grew even wider, and she pointed towards them and had once again begun to scream. But now it was _louder_. She had huddled to the closest space of his office that could be considered a corner, she seemed determined to make herself somehow squeeze in and become as small as possible.

Needless to say, it wasn’t working.

Leo stepped forward, this time he being the one to try to take a crack at calming the child down. Many often spoke about how Leonardo’s presence did bring a sense of comfort.

“Miss, _please_ try to calm down, we only wish to help you and you clearly need—”

“Whhaat the **_fuck_**?!” She pointed at him. Was she…holding a pen? Ozpin didn’t have the time to truly examine it from where he was, she had already curled herself in again. “ _No— **No**_! Nope, no thank you I’d like to wake up now gee thanks!” And then she…bit her arm. Hard, but not enough to draw blood.

Perhaps this was a bit more serious.

Leonardo, alarmed, had recoiled back. He seemed at a complete loss, as was everyone else. All eyes turned to Ozpin, who had somewhat been at a loss himself. He straightened his posture, and he tapped the end of Long Memory on the ground.

“Glynda, if you would.”

She needed no further prompting. Glynda aimed her riding crop at the girl, and her arm was effectively taken out of her mouth. The child seemed stunned by Glynda’s telekinesis, as she had, at last, fallen silent. You could almost see the fog clear from her eyes, the realization of whatever was going through her mind dawning on her.

“…This is…happening…”

Ah. At last, quiet. The shock and terror seemed to at the very least be set on a stand-still.

Ozpin set Long Memory against his desk, and he approached as slowly, and quietly, as he could manage. “Yes, miss, I assure you that you are indeed awake, and that you are perfectly _safe_.” The girl had made an odd sound of distress, but she didn’t say anything more. Alright then. Smaller steps. He knelt down a few feet away from the girl, but he did not reach out to her. “What is your name?”

“Uhhh…uh…uh…”

“Take your time.”

“Isa…bel…?”

“Isabel? Is that correct?”

“There’s no accent. I’m not Hispanic.”

There we go—something more concrete. He could only suppose that this was a common mistake, but the familiarity of that likely reeled her back.

“Of course, my apologies. Are you alright? I assume any tumble would be jarring, but semblance awakenings can be alarming, I know.”

She didn’t answer. Her gaze moved to Ironwood, who stood behind Ozpin. “James Ironwood…” she sounded flabbergasted. She looked at Leo. “Leonardo Lionheart,” she looked between Glynda and Ozpin. “Glynda Goodwitch, Ozpin…!”

“Yes. I assume you are aware of us—”

“I’m not supposed to _be here_ ,”

“Yes, I would imagine so. Can you tell us where you’re from? I can have somebody take you—”

“No, no.” Suddenly, she was urgent. Not afraid parse, but she definitely looked alarmed. She looked around. “I’m not supposed to be **_here_**.” She emphasized the words as clearly as she could, and she motioned around. She looked at the pen in her hand, and looked at the backpack that was at her side. She looked around again, as if confirming where she was. Or maybe, that there wasn’t anyone else that she didn’t know. It was true, all the names she stated were present. Theodore was the only one who couldn’t make it to Vale; Vacuo was a difficult place to travel, especially to get to other kingdoms.

The girl looked at Ozpin again. “I mean _here_ , here. Here in Remnant, at this very moment, right _now_.”

He wasn’t sure why, but Ozpin felt something in him shift. And it wasn’t comfortable. There was a glimmer of something he could recognize, a certain look on her face, a certain feeling of…something _really_ not belonging here. Or someone. That look, that feeling…it was the exact same bewilderment he felt when he had found himself armed with a sword, in a hand that did not belong to him, in a world that he _did not_ recognize. A world he was dropped into after blind acceptance of a reality he did not know or understand the full concept or consequences of.

The girl shifted, looking a touch uncomfortable. Was he making a face in that moment of recollection? He thought he had that better controlled.

“Alrighty then…uhh…hoo-boy, how do I uh…explain this…?”

A tense silence fell as she dug through her backpack. Ironwood was quick to reach for Due Process, but Ozpin held up a hand.

“I’m…not from here, I’m, uh, from…a place where… _well_ ,” she diverted. “I really…really don’t belong here, but…I was _sent_ here by…well…” she pulled out a thick black book. “…the Gods of Light and Darkness?” She sounded like she didn’t even believe herself, or was very confident that anyone else would at the very least. She held up the book to show the title, written in metallic Gold with silvery illustrations scattered throughout the cover:

_The Wizard of Oz_.

It was deathly quiet in Ozpin’s office. And, honestly, nobody seemed very comfortable. They were all silent, waiting, the clicking gears acting as their countdown, their waiting for the squirming girl who sat in the chair before Ozpin’s desk; Isabel…and…that book.

She waited, expecting some sort of prompting. But it was all quiet, and all eyes were on her now. She didn’t like it when people stared, let alone the fact that _they_ were all staring, especially the way _he_ was staring. From the other side of the screen, if she were watching this, or if she were reading some sort of fanfiction where it mentioned Ozpin’s searing gaze, she would go; _“Ooooo,”_ and then grin. But in person, it was…a bit more intimidating.

She took a deep breath, and let out a long breath. _Alrighty then_.

Setting down the book at Ozpin’s desk, she started; “In my world, where I come from…you all are characters based off fairytales of our own.” She turned the book so that Ozpin and the rest of the inner circle could see the book directly. “You all, and, from what I can tell, your _story_ , mostly focuses on this book series here.”

Isabel pointed to one of the characters on the cover. A mangled scarecrow sat on the title with his legs awkwardly crossed. “Scarecrow, uhh…Qrow…” she pointed to a man that looked to be made from metal, sporting a bowtie and a funnel for a hat. “…and this…is the Tin Woodsman.” She then pointed to Ironwood. “That’s you.” She pointed to the bottom of the cover, where a lion with an impressive mane was, with a little girl holding a basket on its back. “Lion…that’s uh…” she looked up at Leonardo, and at his anxiously swishing tail. “…kinda obvious.” She was about to point to the last character illustrated, a large floating head on a throne, but stopped. “…Uh.” She took the book and began to flip through the pages. “Uh wait, uh wait, uh wait—”

Ozpin’s gaze flickered to the book at her lap. He tried to get a good look at the strange, and clearly old, illustrations, but she was going through the pages too fast; as though she knew the book well enough that she didn’t really need to look to know where she was. He managed to catch a few things though. A house with a pair of legs sticking out from under it, again, he saw this ‘Scarecrow’, as well as the other characters she had listed. He exchanged glances with Leonardo and Ironwood. They both didn’t seem sure of how to react.

“Okay!” She held out the open book to Ozpin. The characters that were on the cover were surrounding a man who wore a waistcoat that was inked in black. “Professor Oz.” Her confidence faltered. “Uh—again, uh…kinda obvious. Well, not like just you, it’s _you_ , as in you right now, as in the uh—” she rambled on, tripping over her words while trying to explain.

Ozpin wanted to give her a nudge towards what she may have been trying to say, but he didn’t. He needed to know what she knew. It sounded like she knew…well, truthfully, he wasn’t certain. Not entirely.

“…so you’re also kinda every character in this book with the Oz name, but this one right here is the you _now_ as in…this…life…time…?” She sounded like she was treading on water. So she _was_ talking about his reincarnating. … _Ah_. She was trying to be sensitive about the topic; polite. Why in the world did she feel the need to do _that_? With every answer he came up with, more would replace the one.

He was about to speak, but she was already moving on; perhaps trying to get the information out before she lost her nerve again, which seemed to start coming in short.

“And…then…we have…” she stopped at an illustration of a woman with a crown upon her head, wearing lavish and draping clothes, reading from a large book with a face that somehow looked kind and stern.

Ozpin suddenly got the strangest feeling, a feeling of recognition, that he had seen and even _knew_ this woman—for she was standing right at his very side.

“Glynda—” he and Isabel had said the name at once. They looked up at one another, surprised. The girl wiggled in her seat and smiled at him.

“…The Good Witch of the North.” She finished.

Knowing who the woman in the illustration was supposed to be…disturbed Ozpin. He didn’t feel comfortable with the slow realization that what she was saying was true, and that gnawing feeling that he had known who the characters were supposed to be all along. That feeling wafted in the air, and with a quick glance at his companions, he knew well enough that they were getting the same intuition.

They all looked back at Isabel. She seemed a little less nervous, all of a sudden. Was it because she could tell that her prospect was starting to become believable to them, or if it was because she was talking about something she was clearly at the very least interested in.

Was she waiting for an answer? Someone to confirm something? That they were paying attention? For a question? The girl looked as though she was doing the best she could to appear polite, professional, even. She had even started to make an attempt to smooth down her hair.

Ozpin’s posture straightened. “Miss…”

“—Gerber.” She intervened.

“…Miss…Gerber. You said that we were…” he motioned to the book. “…’based’ off these characters you were mentioning.” He folded his hands and leant forward. “For _what_ …?”

Isabel steeled herself. She took a deep breath. “For a TV show. Well…a webseries, I guess that is technically what it is,” she seemed to not like where the conversation was heading, because she quickly added; “—but it’s not like you all aren’t _real_! At least…to _my_ world you may all be fiction, but…” she motioned around widely. “…here? _Here_ , you’re all _real_ —and this _world_ is real, and _Salem_ is real! _Holy **shit** Salem is real!_” It was as though the realization had finally hit her. “ _Wha—_ ewww,” she stopped short at the feeling of her clothes suddenly feeling cold wet, her arm having brushing against a patch. When she had raised her arm to look…

_Oh. **Ohhhhhh**._

Ozpin shot to his feet with wide eyes. “Glynda—James—"

Glynda was already dialing on her scroll. “I’m on it. They should have everything ready by the time we get to the medical wing.”

Ironwood and Leonardo joined Ozpin’s side as they gathered around the girl. Ironwood was the first to lift up the hem of her shirt, just enough to see the hashing marks that sourced the bleeding.

Leonardo shrunk away from the sight. “She—she can’t go to a _campus medical wing_ , she needs a **_hospital_**!”

“My airship has a medical team,” Ironwood said. “With the Atlas tech we have there it’s as good as _any_ ER we’d get her to,”

Glynda was exasperated. “This is not the time to _promote_ Atlassian tech—”

Ironwood fumed. “ ** _I wasn’t trying_** —”

“ _Stop_ , this isn’t the time or place.” Ozpin was curt, to the point, because he _had to be_. When Ironwood had pressed his gloved hands against the wound, he had begun to take off his blazer. He gingerly brushed the General’s hands aside and brought the shirt back down. He firmly wrapped his blazer around her waist and tied it together. She winced when he tugged the ends. “I’m sorry, I know it must hurt.” He glanced over her face. She definitely was paler now, though she still seemed numb. But without the adrenaline blocking the pain, being dazed seemed to be doing the trick. Though that wasn’t a particularly good sign. He looked at Glynda and Ironwood. “We’ll take her to the infirmary for right now. James, have one of your men land the airship and bring it as close to the school as you can so getting her inside can be easier.”

The two nodded, and Ironwood was already lifting the girl up as the others hurried to the elevator.

“ _Wait—_ ” she pointed out to the book that sat on Ozpin’s desk. “—book,”

Leonardo, who had been tailing behind, was quick to turn around and retrieve both the book and Isabel’s bag. He managed to get in just before the doors were about to shut.

Ozpin mentally kicked himself. He should have checked first, she was clearly wounded from whatever had happened—he had just gotten so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t _think_.

 _Again_.

He paced slowly in the control center of the airship, now miles in the air again. His gaze lowered to the book in his hands.

_“You’re doing so well, sweetie,” the nurse of Beacon’s medical wing, Nurse Mull, had encouraged Isabel quietly. She had enough to start an IV, to give a dose of pain medication at the very least._

_Ozpin didn’t like how indifferent the girl was being. She chatted on after she was given the dose, smoothly obeying every request Mull had given her. She was clearly drained, and she winced and hissed as the wound was cleaned, but she would top it off with either an intentional “waaahh” or a comical face._

_At least the wound wasn’t as serious as it first appeared._

_The medication was starting to get to her, it was clear that she was drowsy. Perhaps that was the reason. As the Atlassian soldiers had begun to quickly wheel her away, she looked up at Ozpin as he and the rest of his inner circle followed._

_“Hey… **hey**.” She got their attention as they boarded the airship. “Don’t read it.”_

_They were only confused for a moment._

_“Not without me.”_

_That was the last thing she had said. Her mind seemed to had succumbed to the medicine-induced fog after that._

Ozpin stared at the cover. The temptation was there, but…what had she meant? _‘Not without me’_ …was she trying to say that they wouldn’t understand the book, even if they tried? Would the…supposed prospect of a fictional character reading the book that inspired them be too much for their minds to grasp? Even his own? He supposed…it would be like looking through the eyes of the Gods. No…it was more so like it reminded him of _it…_ the crown. To know the future, to make choices prematurely not knowing how the consequences would impact the present, but the future…

Something in him shuddered. That life was only just the last…they may had not been _Ozpin_ ’s memories, but he still felt what _he_ had felt. And that crown…it did things to you. Twisted your mind, a cancerous source for paranoia and fear…he so badly wanted to stuff those feelings away, behind a door labeled ‘ _his_ memories’, but…no, he couldn’t do that. Not anymore, at least.

He took in a deep breath. Very well, then. It wouldn’t at least be unfair to read the summary on the back, would it? He turned the book in his hands and adjusted his spectacles.

_The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_

  1. _Frank Baum’s stories are much-loved classics, known for their enchanting messages of hope that come from the extraordinary Land of Oz. This collection features **The Wonderful Wizard of Oz** , **The Marvelous Land of Oz** , **Ozma of Oz** —_



Ozpin nearly stumbled, having almost run into a chair. He gripped the back of it and drew in a tight breath. He straightened his posture. He closed his eyes and breathed in again, much more calmly. He glanced around. Glynda had gone back to the campus to keep an eye on things, and Ironwood and Leonardo were quietly talking.

He returned his gaze back to the book.

_… **Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz** , **The Road to Oz** and **The Emerald City of Oz** , with beautifully reproduced original illustrations by W.W. Denslow and John R. Neil. _

…So…that was it. This was a series of books, classics, it seemed, not unlike the copy of _Fairytales of Remnant_ that he had back in his office. This didn’t even seem to be all of them, but from how that girl (Isabel, he reminded himself) had spoken, it was all that she needed.

But what…needed it for _what_ …?

“What are your thoughts?”

Ozpin looked back at Ironwood. He must have appeared off kilter, because the General stopped before speaking again, and he rose an eyebrow.

“Are…you alright, Oz…?”

 _Oh bloody hell_. Ironwood only ever used that nickname when he was concerned. Ozpin wasn’t fond of people babying him as a child, and he didn’t enjoy it any more now.

“Yes.” Ozpin smoothed down his vest before looking at the book in his hands. “I was simply reading the summary of this book,” he made the statement mildly, as if the book in his hands was something acquired from the library, and not a book that came from another world which had potentially inspired…well, _them_.

Nay, maybe even _Remnant itself_.

Ironwood’s brow raised further. But this was more of his usual _now is not the time for jokes_ , manner. “Ozpin—"

Much better.

“—please. Be straightforward with us _for once_. At least this **_one time_**.” He stepped closer, and Ozpin turned to face the man directly. “Is this…” Ironwood sighed, and he glanced away. He quietly gathered his thoughts. “…do you _believe_ her?”

At this point, Leonardo was anxiously watching the exchange, and Glynda seemed to have returned to check in. She stood in the doorway, crossing her arms.

“…Is what she’s saying **_true_**?” Ironwood’s voice was low, and tense.

Silence fell in the command room, but there wasn’t any tocking of gears to fill in the void.

Ozpin slowly turned away from Ironwood, and he walked over to the windows of the airship. He took out Long Memory and the cane itself extended out. He tapped the end of it against the metallic flooring, slow and counting the seconds, thinking.

He made the rare decision to be completely upfront.

“I’m not certain what to think. Nor do I know yet how we should react to this…information.” He didn’t look back at Ironwood. “And…I am not very fond of that feeling.”

Not fond of, but certainly not unacquainted.

Ironwood’s exterior relaxed. He sighed, and he ran his fingers through his hair. “This is…this is ridiculous.” He finally concluded.

“Maybe,” Ozpin turned to look at Ironwood. “—but given her claims, and our very own instinctual reactions to what she was telling us…I think the least we can do is at least _listen_.” He clasped his hands over Long Memory’s handle. “I will give Theodore a call, see if there is any way to have him pop in via hologram, or at the very least video chat.”

At that moment, a soldier had stepped into the control room.

“Sir.” She saluted Ironwood. Glynda rolled her eyes.

“What is it?” Ironwood asked.

“I apologize for the intrusion, it’s just—”

“ _Hel-lo fellow Headmasters!_ ” A voice suddenly boomed.

Leonardo jumped and looked back. “Theodore! But you said you _weren’t_ _coming_!”

“Surprise!” Theodore laughed as he gathered the faunaus into his arms for a bone-crushing hug. “C’mere ya big ol’ stuffed animal!”

Leonardo hacked and gasped, his legs and tail flailing. “Theodore let me go _please_ …!” He wailed. “We’ve had a very eventful and uncomfortable afternoon!”

“Oh yeah?” Theodore dropped Leonardo. He held up his hands and beckoned towards Ironwood and Glynda. “Come on Glynda, bring it! I can take ya down this time!”

“ _No_.”

“You’re no fun. Alright then, hot-shot General—tackle me! Give it all ya got!”

Ironwood sighed and dismissed the soldier with a small wave. “Theodore, this is _serious_! We don’t have time for—”

“Alright then, Ozpin, show me those lighting reflexes,” Theodore grinned as he wound up an arm. “Hey Oz! Two words; duck!” He moved to throw a punch, but was stopped. Ozpin grabbed Theodore’s fist, and a loud boom sounded in the control room.

Theodore laughed heartily. “Ah-ha! Whoo-boy Oz; I don’t know how you do it kid, but—”

“ _Theodore_.”

The man went silent, and his grin faltered. He looked among his companions again.

“…This changed into something more than a simple ‘brief and greet’ meeting, hasn’t it?”

Theodore had sat down some time ago, his arms crossed over its back and his legs straddling it. He frowned as he drummed his fingers.

“Alright…so…let me get this straight…” he held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “Some random girlie _fell from the sky_ and into _your_ office,” he pointed to Ozpin. “—and she’s claiming that she was sent by the same jokers who cursed ya,” his finger redirected to the book Ozpin had cradled in his arms. “— _and_ she comes from another world, in which we’re all part of some fancy online program based off _that book_.”

“You summarized it very crudely, but yes.” Glynda said.

“Oh come on,” Theodore said. He looked at Ozpin. “You don’t seriously believe that, do you? What if she’s some sort of agent for the ol’ wicked of the west?”

“I had considered that.” Ozpin stated evenly. “Though, I don’t think it’s possible. I can’t quite explain it, but…she, Isabel is her name, was introducing us to the characters one by one, explaining who each of us were. And…” he looked down at the book. “…she showed an illustration, and I suddenly had a feeling…a feeling that…I knew the woman in the illustration.” He looked back up at Theodore, his brows knit. “I immediately recognized her as Glynda. She hadn’t even said the name yet, but I knew.”

“Well…” Glynda looked at Ozpin. She adjusted her glasses. “I didn’t want to say anything, mostly because I wanted to hear what she had to say uninterrupted. But…when she showed the illustration of the man, the one that had the cane and pocket watch—”

“Professor Oz,”

Glynda rolled her eyes. “Yes. When I saw him, before she had said who he was, I had the feeling that it was supposed to be you.”

Leonardo and Ironwood both nodded.

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “Oh man…you’ve all lost your damn minds, I can’t believe it!” He took the book from Ozpin and stood while waving it. “You’re all being silly, this girl has clearly got you all—” he glanced at the cover, and then did a double take. His eyes grew large, and he stared at the illustration of the girl riding the lion’s back. He traced her small face and tapped her pigtails. His gaze darted to the small dog beside the lion.

“…Well blow me down with a raging sandstorm…” he held up the book with wide eyes. “This is—”

“Yes,” Ozpin nodded. “I didn’t say anything to her, but I recognized the girl as well. She didn’t get to talk about her. After she had discussed Glynda, that was when we realized she was injured.”

Theodore’s frown deepened. He held out the book to Ozpin. “Grimm?”

“It looked like it, yes.” Ozpin took the book from him. He looked down at it and traced the title. “She also specifically requested us not to read this book. At least…not without her.”

“Why do you think she’d ask something like that…?” Leonardo wondered.

Glynda looked at Leonardo. “Think about it. Do you think you’d want to read that book on your own knowing that it was about all of us?”

“But think about it,” Ironwood pointed to the book. “…if what is happening to us _now_ is based off this book, there’s no telling what we could learn from it. It’d be _foolish_ not to read it!”

“She didn’t say that we weren’t reading this book at all, James.” Ozpin stated firmly. “I believe that her reasoning may be quite simple; this book is not an exact _copy_ of our lives, that is quite clear from the characters alone. This book may very well play as a metaphor—or rather, _we_ are the metaphor, from the sounds of things.” He looked around, a frown on his lips. “If she truly is from another world, there could be things that are quite different from us. Fairytales, literature, they are all meant to represent what the _author_ knows, to represent the current state of their surroundings.” He looked back at Ironwood. “Tell me, do you honestly think any of us could properly decipher, or even wrap our heads around what this book may tell?”

“Hell, I don’t even want to _think_ about what the hell could be in that thing,” Theodore groaned. “It’s like you said, Jimmy—there’s no telling what’s in that book. And I wouldn’t want to be the sucker to get any of it _wrong_.”

Ironwood sighed, and he grew quiet. “…You’re right.” He finally nodded. “But… if that really is the case, then how in the name of the Brothers did she end up _here_? And just what exactly happened _before_ she came crashing down into your office?”

“I don’t know,” Ozpin looked down at the book in his hands. “But that will be the first thing we will ask about the moment she is able to answer. I have a feeling things will be much clearer by then.”

“Umm…excuse me…?” A nurse timidly peered into the room. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to tell you about that girl’s status…? The doctor also wants to speak you all, he’s in her room right now.”

Ozpin entered the room first, and the others soon filed in after him. “Are we intruding…?”

“No,” a doctor with clean-cut blonde hair and a friendly face smiled as he stood from a chair. “Hello, I am Dr. Henry Chekov—I was just finishing up my evaluation of Miss Gerber here,” he motioned to Isabel. “Considering how she is from a nomadic group outside the kingdoms, I thought it would be a good idea to put her medical information into the CCT records here, so that way anyone in the kingdoms can access it.” He checked his tablet and laughed slightly. “It’s…uh…”

“It’s super long,” Isabel stated. Her voice was much louder, and she spoke clearly. “Really…really long.” She looked down at her hands that rested on her lap. “Yeah.” She was much quieter again, but not quite as frantic or anxious. She seemed very shy, truthfully.

Dr. Chekov chuckled. “And she’ll be fine. She was having a strong reaction to the blood loss because her blood count…well…actually, her _everything_ was down.”

Glynda raised an eyebrow. “And…by ‘everything’ you mean…”

“Everything—iron was completely low, vitamins down, you name it. We’re giving her a few transfusions, so it’s best if she’s here until tomorrow so we can watch her.” He frowned as he checked his tablet again. “No trace of an aura in her tests either—I’m assuming that it’s defected, sounds like it’s always been nonexistent, so to speak. Obviously she has one, otherwise she wouldn’t be breathing, but it’s clearly not enough to show up on our radars.” He looked back at Isabel with a sympathetic smile. “So there’s likely no semblance that’ll come around for you. I’m sorry,”

Isabel only smiled. “That’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“Right…well…” Dr. Chekov looked at Ozpin and his gaze looked over the others. “I…I’m guessing that you all wish to talk to her.”

“Will she be alright for that?” Ironwood asked.

“She should be,” Dr. Chekov shrugged. “Honestly, after we got a bit blood back in her and took care of those wounds, she was up and very lucid. So as long as she is fine with it, it’ll be fine.”

Everyone looked at Isabel.

“Uh…yee, I’m alright with that,” she said.

Dr. Chekov smiled. “Alright then. I’ll leave you all to it, then.” He left the room, and there was a small silene.

Ozpin offered Isabel a friendly smile. “Hello there. I…do believe we had gotten off on rather awkward footing,” he approached her bedside, holding out his hand. “I am Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy.”

Isabel grinned. “I know. But…” she took his hand and shook it. She had a surprisingly firm grip. “…hi. It’s still nice to meet you.” She shook hands with everyone, and she beamed when she took Theodore’s rubied glove in her hand. “You’re Theodore!”

Theodore grinned. “That’s right! Good on you, girlie,”

Everyone sat down in chairs, and once again silence fell. Ozpin held out the book to Isabel. “I believe this is yours.” When she took it, he added; “None of us read it. Just as you asked.”

Isabel smiled, and she looked down at the book. “Cool…that’s cool of you, thank you. That was nice of you. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you’d do it or not.”

“It was…up for debate.” Ozpin said.

Isabel only hummed. She looked around the room. “Nice thing about hospitals is that they all look the same…it’s nice, since everything else is different.” She said.

“I don’t mean to intrude…” Leonardo started. “…but…”

“I had asthma when I was a kid. My mum also went to the hospital a lot. And then after that, I got diagnosed for Chron’s Disease. Uh…” she looked around. “…right. I think it’s called Crover’s here or something like that.”

They exchanged glances, and some hummed in understanding.

“So, yeah. Hospitals are kinda my thing. I’m not like dying, and it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be, but I’m a lot more comfortable in them than most.”

Ozpin grew quiet for a moment. Now the casual behavior earlier made sense. He understood that feeling, finding hospitals or medical emergencies almost trivial—there were plenty of lives that were like that. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t know that the situation was serious…it was more-so…you got a better grasp how to emotionally handle it. You chose an outlet that alleviated the stress of the situation. It appeared humor and comedic whining was her way of doing that.

She also answered Leonardo’s potential question smoothly, and without hesitation. Not to mention, _openly_. The question was quite sensitive, and she didn’t even blink at it. Actually, she was quite honest earlier too.

It was…Ozpin wasn’t certain how to feel about that. What other kinds of information would she readily give to whom she believed she could trust? It made him both envious and…well, it also made him decide she was also naively foolish.

Ozpin closed his eyes and drew in a small breath. Now wasn’t the time. If anything, her honesty would make things go smoothly, and prove to be useful.

He looked up at her. “Miss Gerber…”

“Umm…”

“Yes?”

“Can you just call me Isabel? When it’s not doctors that call me by my last name like that, it makes me feel a little…”

A distinct line between medical discussion and personal matters.

“Of course, my apologies.”

“No it’s okay.”

“Well… _Isabel_ , we do have a few questions to ask of you.”

Isabel grinned and wiggled in her spot on the bed. She looked away when several eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry, it’s just…it was…kinda surreal and…a little weird hearing _you_ say my name while…” she glanced up at Ozpin and the rest of his circle. “…well, while you’re all here. Right now. Sitting here, you’re here, _I’m_ here…this is kinda weird, but it’s starting to also become awesome.”

Theodore laughed. “Well, at least you seem normal in _that_ regard kiddo!” He said. “Any kid in your shoes would just about lose their minds right about now,”

“…Uh…”

Ozpin quickly chimed in. “Isabel,” he immediately had her attention, and she was staring at him with wide eyes. “…I’m going to start small with my questions. Is that alright?”

“No yeah, that’s fine,”

Such an odd phrase. “Well, first things first…” he smiled. “Have you eaten anything recently?”

She shook her head.

“Had anything to drink?”

Again, she shook her head.

“I can have someone pick something up for her,” Ironwood said. “Especially if health and retaining necessities in her body is that much of an issue.”

“What?!” As expected, Theodore immediately started to protest. “Hell, if she’s eating then I’m getting something,”

Glynda sighed. “This is a serious matter, Theodore?”

“So what? A guy can’t eat while we ask the little lady some questions? Where’s the justice in that?!”

“The doctor literally just stated she was depleted in _every_ remark, this is for medical purposes Theodore; not a _lunch in_!”” Leonardo huffed.

“…Technically, this would be _dinner_ —"

“We can order something after we’ve talked; I’ll pay for it.” Ozpin decided to end this conversation quickly. He wanted, needed, to know more. He sighed when Theodore gave a ‘whoop!’, and he returned his attention to Isabel again.

She was beaming. Staring at them, clearly taking in every bit, every interaction that bounced between them. “Sorry.” She said again. “It’s just…you know, cool. The nurses gave me water so…I’m okay right now. Plus I’m kinda being filled up like a balloon with all this stuff they’re pumping into me.”

Ozpin couldn’t help but smile.

“Right…well, let’s continue on. Still starting small. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

A silence fell in the room.

“I…beg pardon…?”

“I’m twenty-one years old,” Isabel grinned, as though she were expecting the gaping stares. “I’m four-foot-eleven and am constantly wavering between a 110 and 120 pounds—I get mistaken for a kid a lot. A waiter once asked me if I wanted a kid’s menu. That was on my twenty first birthday. I’ll be twenty-two soon. Actually…” she squinted. “What month is it?”

“We’re nearing the first semester of the school year,” Glynda said pointedly. “It’s August twenty-fourth.”

“Ooooo,”

“Isabel,” Ozpin leant forward in his seat slightly. “—are you _really_ twenty-one?” He doubted that, if she ever were to lie, it wouldn’t be about something as silly as this, but…

 _…he had to ask_. She looked as though she could have been sixteen, or even just turning eighteen—he would have accepted that immediately.

To his surprise, she _smirked_. The ends of her lips curled into a playful and silly smile.

“You’re one to talk.” She said. “You’re only in your twenties too,” she declared.

This was it. Ozpin smiled and leant on his legs. “And how did you figure that in your head?”

“Well…you’re Remnant’s youngest Headmaster, as of now, and I always thought that you couldn’t have been that much older than Qrow, and then it was recently revealed, before I came here, that you were younger than Theodore. And he’s _obviously_ younger here than when he’s first introduced.” She paused. “Actually…you’re _all_ younger than when we, as in we the audience, the viewer, the reader, first meet you all.”

Ozpin frowned a little. “And how do you know _that_?”

“…Team STRQ.”

Ozpin’s gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”

And then, he was surprised again. She shook her head, and she crossed her fingers over her mouth.

“Sorry—that information is off-limits.”

“What are you talking about?” Ironwood snapped.

“As in literally just that. I can’t give you guys specifics here—that’s a rule straight from the God of Light himself. And I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather not find out what happens when you break his rules.”

At that, everyone grew quiet.

Ozpin drew in a steadying breath, and he closed his eyes. He opened them again. “Isabel…what _are_ you doing here? _Why_ did the Gods send you to us?”

Isabel looked away from Ozpin, and she was quiet for a moment. “…Can I have my bag…?”

Leonardo still had it. He held it out to her, and she rummaged through for a moment. She held out a pen—the very same pen that she held earlier. Actually, come to think of it…it looked more like a tablet stylus.

“This was…a gift, I guess. From the God of Light. Telling what would happen would be…kinda hard, honestly. But…” she held the stylus out, and she began to draw in the air. “I can tell _and_ show. I think that’s how this works.” As she drew, colored ink flowed in the air. She started with a white block, and filled in the rest. A small figure drawn in black, and a towering figure drawn in gold. A figure of a faceless man with the horns of a deer.

Ozpin fought to not react. He recognized that void.

“I was, ironically, working on my own project. _My_ story. I went to bed after staying up all night like I usually did when I worked…and then, when I opened my eyes…I was _there_.”


	2. A Delicate Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gods are assholes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This fanifction includes...  
> swearing, depictions of illnesses in severe cases, PTSD, violence, fourth wall breaking, swearing, meta commentary on society in reality and Remnant, mentions of death, an obscene amount of classical and fairytale references, and finally...swearing.

Honestly, I’m still not entirely sure of what to make of the whole thing, or how to explain it. I stayed up late working on some stuff on my computer, and I went to bed sometime in the early morning. I think. Honestly, I’m not even sure if _that’s_ right! But the next thing I knew, I was in a void. I had dreams like it before, just empty spaces, nothing unusual—it was sorta like the dream before the dream; coming to a play early and seeing the empty stage.

But this stage didn’t stay empty for long. Next thing _I_ know, this super tall glowing man with _deer horns_ on his head is walking up to me—coming out of _literally nothing_.

So yeah, already I wasn’t exactly ready to think that this was _reality_. As far as I knew, back home, there was no God that you could see. Unless you were dead. Not that there isn’t one, I can’t walk around believing that everything came from _absolutely nothing_ , but…well, I guess you could say I believed in mixing logic with religion and faith.

“ **Do you know who I am, child**?”

The hell kind of a question was _that_?! At this point _everyone_ who still watched this series knew who this Dr. Manhattaned-bastard was!

“Y…es…?”

Mum always taught me to never say ‘yeah’ to any authoritative figure. Guess it was only natural that I’d instinctually go for it, even though I had a _helluva lot_ of other things I wanted to say to him.

“ **Come closer. I wish to look at you more closely**.”

Ah hell with it. I approached the God of Light (with caution), and…let me tell you, if you think seeing any God in person is daunting, try doing it when you’re the size of a _high school freshie._ Though he could have just shrunk down to my size, but hell, like he was gonna do _that_.

“… **Yes. As I thought—you will…make for an interesting choice**.”

“Eh?”

“ **I am known in another realm as The God of Light. But…you already knew that, didn’t you** …?”

Where the hell was this going?

“ **I have a task for you. But it is not just I—it is a task both myself, and brother, agreed upon**.”

“Uhhhh—”

Oh _hell_.

Something was bubbling behind me. I didn’t want to look back but…goddammit, you can’t _control_ things like instinctual curiosity!

Black muck tainted the pristine white of the void, and it _reeked_. Reeked of something like tar, like pollution—like _death_.

And there _he_ was. Crawling out, disjointed and about as unhinged as expected, was the God of Darkness. Body twisted and crawling on all fours an everything.

It was about as nasty in-person as you’d expect.

“ **I _still_ think this whole thing is _completely ridiculous_**.” The God of Darkness straightened himself out, his head turning straight. “ **But…I can’t deny that it’ll be _entertaining_ at the very least**.”

Ofthe _whatnow_?

There wasn’t really anything I could think of to say—hell, let’s be _real_ here for a second. That’s right, I’m _breaking the fourth wall_! You, on the other side of the screen, reading this right now! Picture this—you’re literally in a _void_ stuck with two Gods who not only share a single braincell, but _fight over it_! How the hell would _you_ react?! Nobody’d have anything to say; I mean _seriously_ this kind of shit would just get confusing to _think about_!

“ **Isabel**.”

Euugh, I did _not_ like that.

“ **We have a task for you**. **Will you listen**?”

“Uhhh…” What else can I do? Hold up a thumbs-up and just say; “…okay?”

The God of Darkness leant in close, and inhaled. “ **This one _reeks_ of fear and illness. I say we put it back**.”

“ **We will do no such thing. I have a feeling about this one**.”

“ **Ah yes. Just like your precious _ward_. How was that going, again, brother**?”

Oh _hell no_. Wait, no, don’t say anything—

“Well, you didn’t exactly give him much to work with.”

Aww _shit_.

The two brothers were now looking right at me. I’d say in the eye but…they didn’t have any.

I’m gonna be honest, the kind of God I believed in would be fine with their subjects challenging like this. It was a chance, an opportunity to see from multiple perspectives—that was the reason man, life, was given the sense of choice, right?

Well throw that shit out the window because that doesn’t apply to these guys!

“Uh…”

“ **Oh well, don’t stop on _our_ accounts**,” the God of Darkness sneered.

“Okay, you know what?!”

One of the worst qualities I have is that when I get defensive, I also get angry—and when I get angry…well, let’s just say being the daughter of a black woman and biological child of a man who was half Italian and half German does _not_ help the temper issues.

“ _You_ lied!” I pointed to the God of Light. “You called the destruction of your world a tragedy and pinned it all on your brother while doing nothing to even try to stop him!”

The God of Darkness snickered and sneered. “ **Oh my—** ”

I pointed to the God of Darkness. “And _you_! You—you blew it up! _Literally_ —you _literally_ blew it up! _And_ the moon!” Looking back to the God of Light, I added; “And you _also_ lied about him never being alone! He _is_ alone, he’s literally the only guy walking around that has—

“—you seriously expected a _hive mind_ to—”

_Wait, what’s happening?_

_I don’t know. It’s…skipping?  
It did that earlier too, but it’s been doing it since they started talking about…the ‘ward’. _

_Oz…did they mean—_

_Yes, they…they’re talking about me, I believe. I suppose what Isabel had said is true—she cannot pass along information to those that do not know of it._

_Has it skipped for you?_

_…A few times, yes. I didn’t catch what she was saying to the God of Darkness._

_Me neither._

_I haven’t as well._

_It’s the same for me, too…_

_Ah, hell what’s the point of seeing this shit if we can’t even figure it out?!_

_…I…_

_That’s enough, we won’t learn **anything**_ _if we keep talking like this._

_Ozpin…is something wrong?_

_…No. I am…simply listening._

_You sure as hell don’t seem fine. What’s—_

“ **That’s enough**. **Do you see now, brother** …?”

Eh?

“… **If we decide this…they could very well have _another one_** …”

“… **And they will never achieve what was asked** …”

“… **But in the end** … **that is all _her_ choice**.”

Uhh…what?

The God of Light knelt down, and now I was standing face-to-face with him. Well…as close as it can get. “ **You are…a catalyst. A means to push things forward. To either keep the balance…or tip the scale**.”

“But…you guys don’t really _need_ me to do something like that. You guys should know that, I mean… _come on_.”

“ **That is true, yes**.” The God of Darkness bent down, but he did not kneel. Honestly…I felt like I was being looked at like some sort of pet. “ **But…I suppose you could say that we are… _curious_**.”

Ah shit.

“About…what…?”

The God of Light made a hand motion. “ **About what would happen should…someone with _perspective_** **became involved. The perspective that _your kind_ would have. Seeing things as a _whole_ …and not simply walking through**.”

“You’re…talking about not just _me_ —you’re…talking about _us_. Us, the viewer, the reader, the—the _whatever_.”

“ **Correct**.”

The God of Darkness was starting to get closer. _And I did not like it_. He still leered over me, still towering—and honestly I’m still not sure if he was trying to step on me or not. “ **You also have a particular interest in _fairytales_. They _fascinate_ you, you _study_ them**…” dammit, the bastard was _laughing_ at me! “ **Although…I suppose it _is_ more of an _obsession_. You practically rely on them in order to make sense of the world around you. I find it _amusing_** _…”_

 _“—_ **And it provides hindsight**.” The God of Light concluded. “ **There are conditions…but we will not persuade you to either side. The sides being of _Light_** …”

“ **—Or _Darkness_**.” The God of Darkness said. “ **You would be the very representation of our…ongoing debate**.”

_Hol’up_.

“Wait a second…is this—is this a _bet_?!” I looked between the two brothers. “Seriously? _Seriously_! Is that _really_ what we’re doing right now?!”

“ **It is _not_ a—**”

“Really?! ‘Cause it sure as hell seems like it!”

“ **You know what** …” the next thing I know, something has me hooked by the back of my shirt, and I’m up in the air!

_Ohhellohshitohfuckwhatthefuck_ —

The God of Darkness held me with the end of his tail, and he was already starting to shift into his dragon form. “ ** _Sure._ It’s a** **_bet_. A bet between light and darkness itself, how does _that_ sound**?”

“ **Put her down, brother—she is a delicate specimen** —”

“ **Precisely my _point_** _,”_ the God of Darkness sneered and waved me in front of his brother. “ ** _Look at it_. You really expect this to make any sort of impact? We’ve seen her kind**…” he tossed me down.

_B i t c h_.

“… **they are worse than our _own_. And that says quite a bit, considering they effectively destroy everything they touch _without_ any special capabilities**.”

The God of Light looked down at me expectantly.

“Uhh…”

“ **You say nothing to defend your kind**?”

“Well I can’t _lie_ if that’s what you’re asking.” Seriously, I can’t do it, that shit isn’t even worth covering up.

“ **So you have lost faith**.”

“No.”

The God of Darkness leered his head. “ **You _just_ said**—”

“You can be both optimistic and still doubt!” I protested. “As once stated by the great K in _Men in Black_ ; ‘People are smart. But _man_ …’” I motioned around with my finger. “…’man is _dumb_.’”

The brothers tilted their heads. They looked to one another.

“ **Well**?”

“… **Very well, brother…I see your point now** ,” the God of Darkness had shifted back to his human form, and he lifted me up by the shirt. “ **Well, child? Do you agree to our terms**?”

Oh hell no—I ain’t being bamboozled; or…function on one braincell like a certain wizard associated with emeralds.

“ _What_ conditions? Seriously—you guys haven’t told me _anything_.”

The God of Light held out a hand underneath me, and his brother set me down on it. “ **We will send you to the world we have created. You will live among the people of Remnant, and you must _choose_**.”

“Yeah, okay, got that part, cool…”

“ **Choose between light and dark**.” The God of Darkness paused. “… ** _Or_ …choose to keep the scale in place. Prevent from _either_ side to tip one way or the other**…” he motioned his hand, and the next thing I know, I’m perched on a balancing beam on the God of Light’s finger.

B r u h .

I quickly spread my legs to prevent myself from falling over. “ **But know this** …” I quickly look up at the God of Light while flailing my arms. “… **should you choose to tip the balance on either side completely…it will be exceedingly difficult to make it right again**.” He pressed his finger on one end of the beam, and I was quick to cling to the board.

“Hey, hey—come on, this isn’t funny!” I hugged onto the beam as it flipped over before landing onto the God of Light’s palm.

“ **You’re right.** **It _is_ of no joking matter**…” the God of Darkness peered down at me. “… **to _you_**.”

“ **We have watched you for some time**.” His brother added. “ **You value balance above all things…you believe in the world having capabilities of righting itself in your world, _naturally_. You believe in the natural flow…even in things that your world has created as…’fiction’**.”

“I…”

“ **Whether this mindset is right or wrong is _your_ choice**,” the God of Darkness said. “ **A choice that you will doubtlessly wrestle with constantly**.”

“…Okay…so…let’s say I say ‘yes’…” I looked between the two brothers. “…What exactly happens?”

“ **Your body cannot handle the capabilities those in _our_ world can. This is not due to any _ailment_ ; it is true for anyone from your world**,”

“ **—But we will each provide you with _one_ gift. A gift of light, and darkness**.”

“ **And you are allowed _one_ item that you possess from your world, to represent the spot _in between_**.”

“O..kay…? And…what exactly is the catch…?”

“ **We will be sending you back before the time you have last seen. Should you tell _anyone_ on _either_ side of future events in explicit detail**…”

“… **You will have effectively tipped your balance**.”

“ **And the only way to make it whole again would be to tell the other side of the same information, or something of equal value**.”

“But what if I don’t _wanna_ choose?! What if I say something by accident, or without knowing that the information wasn’t already common knowledge?! You can’t seriously tell me that’s fair—how will I know?! If I’m supposed to keep the balance—”

“ **Should you _choose_**.”

“Whatever! Should I ‘choose’ to keep the balance even, how the hell am I supposed to keep up with that if I don’t even know when it’s being tipped?!”

The brothers looked at one another, brows raised.

“ **It’s _demanding…_ just like _her_. I do not like it**.” I didn’t need any face to know the younger one was scowling.

“It’s not a demand—it’s _literally_ a question!”

They looked down at me. At last, the elder nodded.

“ **Very well. Cross your fingers over your lips**.”

“Uhhh…” I did as I was told. “…like this?”

“ **Yes**.” The God of Light held out a finger, and it glowed brighter as he brought it closer. Closer…and… _holy shit that’s bright_. I closed my eyes, and felt my crossed fingers being pressed against my lips. “ **If you choose to accept our task…unless you _wholeheartedly_ understand the consequences of your actions…you will be rendered unable to speak of future events to anyone. Or anyone’s _past_. Any unknown knowledge is yours to keep unless you _choose_ otherwise. So long as you remain in our world…the past and future will be _your_ burden. Know that I have not said understand _and_ content. Your conscious is a part of the consequences. Know this, and understand it well**.”

I opened my eyes and stared up at the God of Light. “ **Well**?” I looked at the God of Darkness. “ **What is your decision? We don’t have all day, you know**.”

Mmmmm….well…okay, seriously, why would I say _no_? This would be a wicked dream. Maybe even one of those rare ones that continues on. To be in Remnant…okay, let’s play along and say this is reality. I’d lose contact with my friends, my family, but…I mean…I may just be sent back right where I was. That’s how these stories work. And I wouldn’t be alone, I mean…holy hell, to be involved with the story that gave me the courage to pursue my own? That would be just about _any_ creator’s dream.

Besides, being alone may be a little lonely but…it wouldn’t exactly kill me.

“…Okay.” I looked up at the brothers. “I’ll play your game.”

They looked at one another.

“… **Very well**.” The God of light held up a hand, and pinched his fingers. There was a glimmer of golden light, and he held out a finger towards me.

…It was a fountain pen.

“ **Take this gift, from me** ,” he moved his hand away when I took the pen and looked it over. “ **—a tool that _any_ artist needs. It is not the same as the Staff of Creation…but, your imagination _is_ your limit. It may not hold the same power, but I believe you will find your creativity to be useful**.”

Suddenly the pen changed shape. It looked a helluva lot like the Apple Pen I had for my tablet. “Uhh—”

“ **It has taken the form you appear to be most comfortable with. Perhaps the familiarity will soothe you**.”

“…O…kay?”

“ ** _My_ gift**…” The God of Darkness was smirking behind that stupid faceless…face. I _knew_ it. “… **is a _surprise_. But I assure you, it will be _quite_ useful, should you learn to _control_ it**.”

“ _Uhh—_ ”

Yeah…I should’ve seen that shit coming _. Fuck me over a handbasket._

“ **Now** ,” the brothers said in unison. “… ** _you_ must choose**.”

Ah fuck, I’m horrible at making decisions. Well. Hel-lo…

I raised my hand. “Uh…I actually have a quick question!”

The brothers each raised an eyebrow.

“ **What is it _now_** …?” The God of Darkness groaned.

“ **What is your question, child**?”

“Okay…so I can’t directly give information without tipping the balance…” I grinned. “Do metaphors count?”

“ **Excuse me**?”

“Metaphors. Like…you know, say I give a riddle about something that could happen twenty years or so. Or…I showed one of the books that represented the inspiration _my_ world had for _your_ world?” I grimaced. “Is that…making sense…?”

“ **Yes, unfortunately** ,” the younger sighed. He looked to his brother. “ **Well…? Does it count, brother**?”

The God of Light seemed to think long and hard. “… **I recall stating that directly mentioning events of the future will cause imbalance, not metaphors or…fairytales. I will allow this. But know that while it will not tilt the balance completely to one side…this will have its own set of consequences**.”

Well…duh.

“Okay…then I want my copy of _The Wizard of Oz_. The black one. The one that has all the main books in it.”

“ **Very well. Then it is done**.”

I scrambled with the pen as a book suddenly dropped in my arms. I clutched onto them both tightly.

“ **The journey will be challenging, and there will be many obstacles in your way**. **There is one more thing I would like to mention before we send you away** …” I looked at the God of Light. “ **I will provide but _one_ warning. You mustn’t**—”

“ **I am growing _tiresome_ of this talk, brother, let us _send it down already_**!”

“ ** _No_** —”

The next thing I know, I’m being pushed! Shoved right off the God of Light’s hand, and as I fell, the void had faded, and so did _they_.

I tumbled and spiraled, completely out of control and being pulled along, dropping down like those terrifying drop rides. Except this was for _much longer_. So I did what any rational person would do in this predicament.

I screamed. All the way down.

I fell past stars, a sun, a broken moon and spiraling out of the way of its debris, I hugged onto my book, clutched my pen, trying anything for _some_ sort of security, and I seemed to fall faster and faster, until—

I had collapsed right onto a table.

So…you know. I’m killing time _writhing_. It took a bit for me to stop just so I could actually _look around_.

… _Kinda_ regretted it. Just…you know. Just a little. Yeah, no, I regretted it _a lot_.

Because, well, it _seemed_ that the God of Darkness thought it’d be _funny_ to go on ahead and drop me off, literally, _where_?

Oh no, really it was nowhere that special I mean come on, it was fine it was only—

**_Salem’s goddamn castle_**.

By the time this _lovely_ information had set in, it looked as though it was just about time for a good ol’ fashioned war meeting.

Yeah, people _came in_. A whole lot, and the second they saw me rolling off their table they all were… _understandably confused_.

_Wait, **what**? _

_How did she even survive?!_

_There were people, she said there were people—_

_Yes, she did. Isabel, can you—_

**Hey**.

_…_

_…_

_……_

I’m not **done yet**. Do you people want the full story or **not**? I’m already on edge here recollecting this shit, would you mind **not** bombarding me?

_…I’m sorry. Please, continue._

**Thank you**. And…I’m sorry for yelling, that wasn’t very nice.

I don’t remember these people looked like, sorry. You guys have to understand, where I come from, there _is_ no Aura, Semblances don’t exist—hell, people who are extremely fit and can bench shit is almost considered _abnormal_ where I come from. And you sure as hell can’t expect some college student who’s got an illness that drains every essential from their body to exactly be in the greatest physical condition without a _shit ton_ of work.

Bottom line, I was kinda busy pulling myself together to really pay attention. And by the time I _did_ get on my feet, can you guess who walked in?

Ding! That’s right, first thought probably that went into your head, good job!

_Salem_. The old _queen bitch herself_. And let me tell you, just her _walking up_ to me? Again, not even five feet tall, constantly wavering on the low side in weight; that would be _me_. And on the other end of the corner, who do we go? Some lady who’s _already_ close to breaking six feet in height, _definitely_ breaks six feet with them goddamn high heels, unimaginable magic and power with the ability to create and control Grimm, all mean, all powerful, and _walking right up to me_.

**_That shit is scary._**

I wasn’t exactly paying attention to what they were saying, but I’m pretty sure her followers were trying to explain that _they_ weren’t the reason I was there. You know, so she wouldn’t kill them, but she seemed pretty preoccupied with staring me down.

“What’s _this_ …?”

Shit just got _very real_. Dream or no dream, no way in hell was I letting myself get killed by her. Mostly because I _knew_ she would find a way to make it as agonizing as possible. I may have gotten used to pain over the years, but I sure as hell didn’t _want it_.

I’m gonna be honest with you guys—I have absolutely no idea what I was saying here, I don’t even think it’s all _fully registered_.

But…I can at least _try_ to remember.

I must’ve been babbling, or something like that, because Salem was growing impatient. She strode towards me, and I don’t know how, but I managed to run. I didn’t get far, exactly. I got to the other end of the table, at least. But that was where the book had landed, so it wasn’t a total loss.

It was a mistake to pick it up in front of Salem.

One look at the title, that was all she needed. “The Wizard of _Oz_ …that sounds very interesting. Tell me…” she got closer, and I moved away. “…what is it about? I’d very much like to know.

“Do you like to read?”

Like hell I was going to actually answer.

“Oh, that’s very nice. _I_ used to like reading, once upon a time…but it gets boring after you’ve read every book. But _that one_ …”

Nobody ever _really_ believes a smile is off-putting. Not in the way that media portrays it; the villainous smile, the smirk—it can give you chills on the other side of the screen, for sure. But actually witnessing it, and _her_ voice being the first familiar thing from this world to be greeted with…you can act like you’ll be brave all you want when daydreaming, writing fanfiction; but seeing it in person is another thing entirely.

“…well, I _must say_ …it’s the first time I’ve been interested in a _very_ long time.”

I was trapped. Between Salem, and her servants blocking the door…there _was_ nowhere to run.

At least I found my pen.

“Oh? And what’s that?

“…You know, it is considered _quite rude_ not to answer when someone is talking to you. I really am interested in what you have to say… _honest_.”

And then she _frowned_ , and that was a lot scarier.

“You reek of… _divine energy_. Tell me… _what **are** you_…?”

And then she became _really impatient_. That was even worse.

“I’m _growing tired_ of holding a one sided conversation,”

Something grabbed me. There wasn’t anything there, but something had me, and it was dragging me right to Salem no matter how much you would fight it. But I didn’t. I was too scared too. She grabbed the book in my arms, and for a moment we fought over it. But she had snagged it.

Salem didn’t look through the book for long. Actually, she only thumbed through the pages and stopped at the rare illustrations.

“…I am going to ask you this… _one more time_. And I expect an answer.” She held up the book. “What are you…” she shoved the book back into my arms. “—and what is _this_?”

“…Uh—uh—u-uh—”

Salem took my face into her hand and pulled me close. “Answer me.”

“Hu-human.”

“…Human…? Another toy from the Gods then? Were you sent here for _Ozpin_ …?” She shoved me back and laughed as I was dropped. “Well, well. I’m afraid you’re a long way off, child. But that’s fine. You can stay with me instead—wouldn’t that be nice? You can tell _me_ all about what you had in mind instead of dear Ozpin.”

It was like I was braindead. All I could only do was stare. Stare and…wish, hope.

_IwanttogetoutIwanttogetoutIdontwanttobehereanymoreIwanttoleave—_

And then I fell. Right through the floor and to the one below it. I looked up, staring at the clean gaping hole that was right above me, and Salem stared back.

 _Then I ran_.

She was screaming, oh hell she was _more_ than angry, plummeting after me, God knows _what_ was coming after me, I didn’t even try to look back. I waved my pen, but— _goddammit why wasn’t anything happening_?! _I just want to **leave**!_

I held out the pen again, and another hole gaped in the wall in front of me. And I kept it out, and wall after wall opened.

You can’t just go with this thing, you gotta _think_! What did it look like—what did it look like outside?!

I pointed down, and the floor opened under me. I _did not_ stick the landing. I don’t know how I hadn’t broken a bone, but I hadn’t done it yet in my life and I guess I wasn’t gonna then!

_Oh fuck think fast!_

I pointed the pen up at the hole above me and waved my arm.

_Undo that shit, undo that shit!_

Then it was gone. But I could hear Salem screaming from the courtyard. I didn’t look, but I could hear the Grimm coming. So I kept running. In hindsight, it was dumb to think about wanting a bag to put the book into, but at that point I was just trying to _figure shit out_.

**_Your imagination is your limit_ ** _._

_Okay. Okay. Blue skies, cloudy skies, there can’t be any blue skies near here—_

I needed to start actually pointing the pen _up_ instead of _down_. I would say I didn’t stick the landing again, but I was freefalling. I was going to close the portal again, but a Grimm had gotten through—one of those tentacle orb things. It was trying to grab the book, my pen, and at this point primitive survival instincts were running me. When it had snagged my pen, I bit at it, and it let go (it tasted about as good as you’d expect), and the next thing I know, I’m kicking at it, trying anything. I didn’t kill it, hell, I could barely get a crack, but I _did_ manage to get far enough. I thought about beacon, about the tower—

\--and I had fallen into your office.

“…I guess it stops working when I black out, which makes sense, I guess. So, at least the Grimm didn’t get in…?” Isabel tried for a smile, but was only met with stares.

“You spoke to the Gods,” Ironwood muttered.

“Yeah, they’re kinda assholes.”

Leonardo gaped. “You… _outran_ Salem.”

“Well, not really, uh…I kinda cheated?”

Theodore grinned. “You beat up a Seer!”

“You all are making this sound a lot more badass than it actually was. I _literally_ ran like a bitch.”

“But you’re alive.” Glynda said gently.

“Okay…yeah, I am…but I really didn’t do anything. Seriously. It wasn’t awesome, it wasn’t cool—I didn’t outrun anyone, I just _ran_.” Isabel looked down at her hands. “…I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. I told you all what you wanted to know, okay? If you’re gonna talk about it, just do it behind my back.”

“Thank you.”

Isabel looked up at Ozpin. He smiled. “I know that…it likely didn’t feel very brave, and I understand that you don’t wish to speak of it. But understand…” his brows knit, and he stared pointedly at her. “This was not a light encounter. Bravery, luck, fate—it doesn’t matter. The fact of the matter is that you are _here_. You made it. And now you are here, in Vale.” He reached out and patted her arm. “If anything…it was brave of you to relive the experience so that we would have a clearer picture. So—thank you.”

Isabel said nothing, but she nodded.

“Right. Well, I know that you probably aren’t feeling very hungry after that. But taking your health into consideration, I’m afraid I must insist that you try. Alright?”

She nodded.

Ordering the food seemed to distract her enough. She spent the majority of the process staring, watching as Theodore and Leonardo bickered, observed when Ironwood debated with Glynda over which restaurant it was that they were thinking of that they had eaten at the last time they had all met, and she stole glances at Ozpin. She seemed like she wanted to chime in from time to time, to say something, but decided against it every time. It eventually ended with Ozpin quietly ordering everyone’s favorites from the restaurant they usually ordered from.

Isabel seemed surprised when he had moved closer to her bed and held out his scroll.

“Get whatever you like. Please. My treat.”

She hesitated before she had taken his scroll. He watched her as she perused the menu.

“…I had meant what I said, by the way. I truly appreciate your honesty. It couldn’t have been easy to recall that, even if it was recent, and I’m sorry I had pressed for answers so insistently.”

Isabel stopped. She looked up at Ozpin, and stared at him in the eyes. There was…a certain look on her face. He wasn’t certain why, but it made him a touch uncomfortable.

“When I get out of here…I have something else to tell you.”

“Oh? Can you not just tell me now?”

“Nope. It’s…personal stuff.”

“Hm…very well. I suppose I owe you that much.”

When Isabel handed Ozpin back his scroll, she grinned at him. “You really wanna pay me back?”

“Absolutely.”

The answer came immediately. “Buy me art supplies.”


	3. First Times All Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ozpin has a difficult time accepting kindness. Again.  
> WARNING: This fanifction includes...  
> swearing, depictions of illnesses in severe cases, PTSD, violence, fourth wall breaking, swearing, meta commentary on society in reality and Remnant, mentions of death, an obscene amount of classical and fairytale references, and finally...swearing.

…This was really weird.

No, really. This whole ordeal is just. Fucking weird. And not only was the entire _situation_ weird, but also _her face_ was weird! 

Isabel hadn’t gotten a good look at herself until now. Considering, well… _everything._ But now, being left alone at last with just her thoughts…she finally managed to get a look at herself in the mirror. Never before had she ever felt uncomfortable about having smooth and clear skin, but this was not skin. _This was rubber_. It even stretched like rubber. But then again…cartoon and anime physics, amiright?

Alright...let’s double-back for a second here.

Remnant. Now. In. Yes.

Magic pen in possession—alrighty. 

Close to twenty-something years pre-show, which somehow complicates things while also being easier. 

N o i c e .

Isabel began to take off her shirt, mindful of the IV-line in her arm, and then stopped.

_Beeeep—_

_“Yes? Can I help you Miss Gerber?”_

“Can you send a nurse over to my room please...? I tried to change and...I—I’m stuck.”

Ozpin didn’t get a wink of sleep. Not that it was unusual, but it was particularly bothersome to process the information that he was given the day before. 

Based on what he had seen, as well as taking her behavior into consideration...it was quite clear that she knew _of him_. Of Ozma, and his— _their—_ task. But what else did she know? Did this mean she knew of Salem’s history as well? The relics and their capabilities? Jinn?

The question he dared to ask?

Ozpin didn’t realize he was grimacing, but Glynda had caught wind of it, it seemed, as the next thing he knew, there was a fresh mug of cocoa being placed directly in front of him on his desk. 

“You always made that face, even when I first met you—and it usually means that something is bothering you.” She rolled her eyes at his silence. “ _But_...since it is likely that you are going to once again going to bottle up whatever it is that’s on your mind, allow me to present my own thoughts,” she stepped back and crossed her arms. “—we know absolutely nothing about this girl except for how she is involved with us. So perhaps you ought to stop spending time _speculating_ on her behavior, and instead just approach her. Your caution is always warranted, but we both know that she isn’t dangerous.” Her brows knit as she glanced to the side. “...Deranged, and extremely unusual...but I don’t think she means any harm. So,” she tapped her riding crop against her palm. “Why don’t you take the time today to get whatever answers you wish to have out of her? She seems to wish to have a conversation with you, a conversation she is deeming to be of great value to her.” She turned on her heel. “That is all I am going to say on the matter. I shall retrieve team STRQ—I am certain they have arrived earlier than requested due to yesterday’s events.”

Both Glynda’s and Ozpin’s scrolls pinged. They checked them. 

_Taiyang Xiao Long has created a GROUP CHAT with you, Glynda, Qrow Brawen, Raven Brawen, and Summer Rose._

_TAI-DYE: Eyy, Glyndaaaaa! Ozzzz? Let us innnn!_

_Raven: Tai forgot the passcode and got us locked out. Please come get us, it’s really cold._

_KILT-MAN: Also what the hell happened yesterday???_

_KILT-MAN changed his name to **Qrow**._

_Qrow: DAMMIT TAI STOP DOING THAT_

_TAI-DYE: Why are you texting??? I’m right next to you_

_Qrow: Shut up._

_Raven: Brothers almighty, please come get us._

_Summer: I like group chats. ^.^_

_Summer: :O ooh! Professor Ozpin is in this chat??? oooh!!!_

_Summer: <3 <3 ! Hi Professor!!!!_

_Summer: :D May I have cocoa when we come up?_

_Raven: Please end this. Somebody._

Glynda rubbed her temples slowly. “Are you _certain_ about this...?”

Ozpin smiled. “Yes I am. Please retrieve team STRQ—I want to speak with James and check in on our new companion’s condition.”

“Of course.” Glynda’s brow twitched when their scrolls pinged again.

“...Best make it snappy.”

“I cannot believe you are actually going through with this...”

Ozpin only smiled. He chuckled as Glynda strolled over to the elevator and stepped inside.

His scroll pinged.

_TAI-DYE: PLEASE HURRY GLYNDA QROW’S TRYING TO KILL ME_

_Summer: I forgot to bring the cocoa mix I wanted you to try......._

_Raven: It’s too early for this._

_Glynda: If anyone sends anymore messages I am giving every single one of you detention. I don’t care that you all have graduated._

_Ozpin: There is no need for that, Glynda._

_Ozpin: And that’s quite alright, Miss Rose—there is always next time. :) I will see you all shortly._

Ozpin chuckled, despite himself. Such energy—he wished he could have that spunk still; one of the downsides of merging with an ancient soul is that you felt far older than your physical body actually was. 

He slid his scroll over to the slot on his desk, and he leant back in his chair. 

“Call James Ironwood.”

As he waited for the call to go through, he swiped his mug off his desk and took a sip. He hummed sadly.

Why did Glynda insist on making it significantly less sweet than he did? He needed that sugar for energy...

“Ozpin! Good morning,” Ironwood’s voice cheerfully cut through Ozpin’s thoughts. His hallowgrammed image appeared above his desk. Ironwood appeared to be in the middle of breakfast.

“Good morning, James. I apologize for the sudden call.”

“That’s alright, I had a feeling you would call a bit early—that’s why I’m up. Are you checking in about our new friend?”

“Yes. How is she?”

“A lot better from the looks of things.” Ironwood chuckled as he leant against his table. “We had a bit of an incident this morning, though.”

“Oh?”

“Isabel had apparently gotten the idea to try to change into new clothes. She keeps insisting that she always did it fine in the past, but well...according to the nurses, she had gotten herself tangled in her IV and shirt. They had to cut her free with a pair of scissors.”

Ozpin stifled a laugh. “I...I see. And now?”

Ironwood peered over to the side for a moment. “Now she’s...still looking outside. She’s fixated on Beacon Tower.”

_“I’m...ook...n...im...!”_

Ozpin rose an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“That was Isabel. She says that she’s looking for you.”

Ozpin looked back to the window. The Atlassian aircraft was still hovering nearby, and sure enough, he could make out a figure that was constantly moving from left to right across the scale of the window. 

“...She _seems_ to be doing much better. She’s more energetic at the very least, and she seems quite comfortable around you.”

“The doctor said that her body responded to the treatment well, but it’s still not a good idea to leave her completely alone. She was also just given pain medication for her wounds. They aren’t terrible, but they seemed to cause her a bit of pain.” Ironwood ran his fingers through his hair. “I stayed behind last night to keep her company; we were talking for a good while. I...would’ve felt bad leaving her behind.”

“Of course. I appreciate that, James. I would have stayed behind too, but I had to work out a few things.” Ozpin glanced down at his scroll. “Leonardo is calling—oh. So is Theodore, now. Shall I put them through?”

“Sure, the more the merrier.”

Ozpin set down his mug as two more screens projected. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Good morning, Ozpin,” Leonardo yawned. “Oh, I’m so sorry—I couldn’t sleep,”

“That was a helluva meeting yesterday!” Theodore grinned. “How’s the girlie doing?”

“We were just discussing her. According to James, she is doing much better.”

“Alright! Tiny’s recoverin’, I love it!” 

Leonardo stifled a yawn. “I can’t believe that all really happened yesterday—I kept waiting to wake up and for it all to be some sort of...bizarre dream. What do you make of this, Ozpin...?”

Ozpin laced his fingers and rested his elbows on his desk. “I’m not too sure...I suppose I’ve been wondering that myself. James, is it safe for her to go out, do you think?”

Ironwood shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s up to her, I think.” 

“Then do you mind bringing her over?”

“Not at all. One second.” Ironwood rose from his chair and stepped out of view for a moment, and there was background chatter for a moment before the General had returned with Isabel. She was pulling along an IV line by its carrier, and while cumbersome, it didn’t take long for her to get it in a proper position before sitting in a different chair. She seemed to be wearing an Atlassian uniform, but had adjusted it and taken off enough parts where it looked a bit more casual.

“Hey, there she is!” Theodore greeted. “How’s it going girlie?”

“I’m doin’ good,” Isabel said. “Good mornin’.”

“Good morning Isabel.” Ozpin returned. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, yeah,” she looked down and started to rock slightly from side to side. She seemed restless; Ozpin could only guess that it was the abundance of medication and substances she was given. She hesitated. “…How are you guys…?”

Still a bit nervous. Or, again, it could be the treatment, but he suspected that it had to do more with the considerably unorthodox prospect; speaking to people whom were considered to be in the realm of _fiction_ in her own world and logic, but now are _quite real_ by the standards of _their_ own world and logic. Why, it’d be no different than Pumpkin Pete suddenly popping out of a rabbit hole and strutting about in their eyes, he’d imagine. Or rather, falling head-first (quite literally) into the cartoon.

…This whole situation was going to give him a headache if he thought about it any longer.

“…Yeah this is really weird even by your standards, huh?”

Ozpin looked over at Isabel. She was staring quite intently.

“…It is.” It was difficult to disagree. “Leonardo and I went through the public records of Mantle and Vale—James and Theodore had also done the same for Atlas and Vacuo. Glynda had also taken it upon herself to check the school systems. As expected, you were nowhere to be found.”

“Yeah, that’s why—” Isabel looked around. “…that’s why I said I was from a nomadic group outside the kingdoms,” she said, a bit more quietly.

“I thought this much,” Ozpin smiled. “Very clever. But of course, we’re going to change that starting today.” He tapped his scroll, and a fourth screen popped up. He checked through his email for a moment. “I have a few contacts—they were able to arrange a meeting later on today at the city hall so that we can register you as a Vale citizen. Although it would be ideal to keep you off-record for the sake of safety and anonymity, it would be too much of a hinderance.”

“If we _did_ keep you off-record, then we would have to have special access for you every single time you so much as wanted to traverse to a different city,” Leonardo added.

“Not to mention the suspicion it would cause,” Ironwood said. “Not having a citizenship would probably bring more attention than avoid it in the long-run.”

“And I’m probably gonna be here for a while.” Isabel concluded.

Ozpin nodded. “So, having said that, do you think you’ll be up for going about town for a bit? It’s completely up to you, you don’t have to strain yourself.”

Isabel considered. “…Eh, I think I’ll be fine. I’ll probably be super tired by the end of the day but usually I can do pretty good after medical stuff like this,” she tugged lightly at her IV line.

“You’re certain?”

“Yee.”

Strange dialect. “Alright. I’ll come by around say…ten-thirty. I have a bit of business to take care of on my end, and you should probably try to get a bit more sleep beforehand if you can.” Ozpin glanced over as a popup alerted him. Glynda and team STRQ. “…I’m afraid I’ll have to get going. I look forward to speaking with you again. And as for the rest of you, I expect that you’ll all come by later tonight?”

“Of course.”

“You bet yer ass Ozzy!”

“I’ll do my best to be on time,”

Isabel seemed like she had something to say.

“…Yes?”

“It’s okay. I can just talk to you about it later.” She seemed…a touch irritable.

“…Very well.” Ozpin offered a smile. “Have a good morning, everyone.” Just before he had ended the call, he had caught a particular look that Isabel had made. He couldn’t examine it for very long. Was something bothering her? Had he unknowingly said something? This mind that held the knowledge of future events, this mind that had insight of the future and potentially the past as well…he wished he could pick at it, just a bit. But he needed to be patient, it was far too early for that sort of thing.

What was the reason behind that look that he would have dared to label as _concern_?

The left elevator’s doors opened.

Well, those thoughts would have to wait. For now, it was time to finally have this conversation.

Isabel slumped back against her chair with a small groan.

Goddammit, he was already doing the thing.

_‘As for the rest of you’, my dude, **I’m** part of the ‘rest’; Goddammit wizard man I **literally** know everything there is like literally **nothing** you gotta hide.’_

Ozpin and his single, reincarnated braincell…it’s bouncing around in there like a screensaver, she just _knew it_.

“You seem bothered,”

Isabel looked up at Ironwood, and her mouth pressed into a long stretch. _Tall iron-tin-man._

Ironwood glanced over at the window, and he eyed Beacon Tower for a moment. “…I caught that too, trust me.” He offered a half-hearted chuckle. “I’d say he probably didn’t mean it like that, but…”

“He did.”

“…Yeah, he probably did.” Ironwood looked down at Isabel. “But…my guess is that you have something that’s gonna change his mind pretty quick.”

Isabel grimaced.

“What?”

“I didn’t like that. Nope, I didn’t like that.”

“What?”

“You made it sound like I’m gonna blackmail him.”

Ironwood chuckled. “I guess it did come across that way, didn’t it? …Honestly, I’m not sure what you’re up to, but…I have a feeling that if anyone’s gonna get through to him…it might be you.”

“I dunno—Imma try, but…” Isabel closed her eyes and her cheeks stretched with her mouth this time. “ _Mweehhhh_.”

Ironwood laughed that time. “Well, whatever it is you want to say to Ozpin, I’m wishing you luck all the same; Ozpin seems laid back, and he is to an extent, but he’s more stubborn than a Goliath that refuses to move off a road.”

“…Does that happen?”

“Sometimes, down in Mantle or the outside kingdoms. Ozpin said that it used to happen _all the time_ before the walls were structured around the kingdom.”

“…Are you trying to tell me that Grimm know what _trolling_ is?”

“What?”

Glynda walked alongside Ozpin as the two crossed the campus courtyard, scrolling through the tablet that was in her hands. “Everything was set up a bit earlier than what was scheduled for the school year, so there are only a few loose ends that need to be tied including the prep for the initiation test for the in-coming first years.”

Ozpin glanced down at Glynda’s tablet for a moment. “Good—I already had the outlines for it written, it should be on my computer. I heard that the temple is nearly finished in its reconstruction.”

“You mean the temple team STRQ destroyed during their initiation? Yes, it should be repaired before the school year. It was destroyed beyond even _my_ fixing—too much of it was turned to gravel.”

“Yes, well, must admit that it was an impressive deconstruction.” Ozpin’s lips twitched into a smile when Glynda rolled her eyes and sighed. He looked ahead and watched as the Atlas airship had finished its docking, and he leant against Long Memory.

Glynda glanced at him, her gaze flickering down to his fingers that drummed against the cane’s handle. “The conversation went…surprisingly smoothly.”

Ozpin inhaled deeply. She was right. The disclosure he had presented had went…a bit too smoothly for his liking, truthfully. It almost made him anxious. The immediate response of trust team STRQ had, their ease into accepting the new reality being placed on them, and their immediate response to question how they could assist…that level of trust…truthfully, it hadn’t dawned on Ozpin just how much faith and trust those children had in him until that moment.

And _that_ made him all the more uncomfortable.

“…Do you regret telling them?”

_Did he?_

“…No. No, I don’t. I just…wasn’t expecting the reaction I received, I suppose…”

“Their eagerness is a touch concerning, yes.” Glynda agreed. “But, allow me to remind you that this is the same team that dived head-first into danger to save their fellow students when it was discovered that a hoard of Apathy had gotten into the Emerald Forest during initiation; the same reckless students that bounded head-first into getting into trouble time and time again—” she rose a brow at Ozpin. “The same students you refused to give a single hour of detention to; no matter how many rules they broke.” She added dryly.

Ozpin chuckled. “Their hearts were in the right place—and still are.” His eyes trained on the opening entrance of the airship. “I have an enormous amount of faith in them—they’ll all become perhaps some of the greatest huntsmen and huntresses of their generation. Their spirit, their resolve, their skill…they truly represent what it means to become protectors of Remnant.”

“And that is why you chose them.”

“Yes.” Ozpin considered. “I would have introduced Isabel to team STRQ—it would only be fair, after all. But…”

“…Given her reaction to them yesterday, and her circumstances, it may be a bit early for that.” Concluded Glynda.

“Precisely. This is, after all, an extremely daunting situation. I don’t wish to rush her.”

Ironwood descended from the entry platform of the airship, several soldiers following after; one was pushing Isabel along in a wheelchair, the other two standing on either side of her.

Isabel herself gave Ozpin and Glynda a look. Her mouth pressed and stretched, and she stared at them unblinkingly, and not particularly looking thrilled about her current situation.

Glynda sighed. “We should have taken her to our infirmary last night.”

Ozpin only answered with a hum. James meant well; he knew that. It was…a bit much, but it couldn’t be helped. Between his natural strong desire to protect those he deemed needed it, as well as his semblance…the man really _couldn’t_ help himself.

Ironwood smiled as he approached Ozpin and Glynda. “Well, here she is,” he looked down at Isabel.

She stared for a moment.

“C…can I stand now?” She didn’t wait for an answer, truthfully—she was already getting up before the General had nodded.

Ironwood cocked a brow at Ozpin before beginning to leave with his soldiers. “I’ll see you all later,” he offered a small smile before herding his soldiers back to the airship. “Don’t strain yourself, Isabel.”

Isabel only offered a small nod brushed herself off before looking up between the Headmaster and Vice Headmistress. “Sooo…” she adjusted the strap of her bag. She must have had the book. “…where we goin’…?”

Ozpin wondered, for a moment, if her speech was the local dialect from wherever she hailed from. He smiled. “As promised, to the local art store.” She _beamed_. “But first, I need to take you to the city hall in order to register your citizenship here in Vale.” Then she gaped at him. “After that, you’ll need an ID-card.” Her head tilted far enough that her body was starting to move to the side with it. “In the meantime, Glynda will be setting up a flat for you on camps—that way you won’t be too far from us.”

“ _I get an **apartment**?!_” Isabel was ecstatic again.

Ozpin smiled. “Yes. We’ll also have to get you basic necessities. There will be furniture in the apartment already, but…” he glanced to her bag. “I doubt you have extra clothes in there.”

“Nope.”

Glynda sighed as she looked between Ozpin and Isabel. “Why am I getting the feeling that leaving you two alone for a day is going to be a bad idea…? You hardly know each other and yet I feel as though you’re going to cause trouble.”

Then Isabel went beet-red. “…Eh?”

Ozpin smiled down at her. “Yes, it’ll just be you and I for today. I figured that would be best, as you did say you wished to speak with me alone. Unless that would make you uncomfortable…?”

Yes, she did say that…but the prospect of spending a day with the bishie headmaster wizard-man and actually doing it were two completely different concepts.

Isabel inhaled. “Nahitsnoprobbob.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s okay.”

Ozpin and Glynda exchanged looks. But she was already turning on her heel—she had too much work to do.

“I’ll send a message to your scroll once in a while to make sure that you both are alright.” Glynda said. She stopped, and looked pointedly at the two of them. “Please don’t make problems for me.”

Ozpin and Isabel stood in silence for a moment. She eventually looked up at him. “Uh…so…”

He gently patted her back as he led her along the courtyard. “Come—we’ll be late for the airship to the city.”

“Ohhh.” Isabel glanced back to look at Beacon. “It’s very nice.”

Ozpin nodded, and he couldn’t help but smile fondly as he looked back at the school himself. “Yes, it truly is.”

Another silence fell between them as they walked over to the docks. Ozpin motioned to a bench, and the two then sat in that silence.

Isabel glanced over at Ozpin, and then away when their gazes met. “…I’m not good at socializing.”

“That’s alright.” He clasped his hands over Long Memory’s handle, and he leant to the side towards her slightly with a half-smile. “…Neither am I.”

Isabel stared at him, her eyes wide and brows knit. Her face was quite expressive.

They stared at each other in silence.

“…You aren’t good at socializing.”

“I really am not.”

“….”

“….?”

“You were a king. Like. Twice. As far as I know, maybe even more.”

“Only once, but yes, I was indeed.”

“Twice.”

Ozpin stiffened a little. _Ah._ “I see. You’re…referring to…”

“Yes. I’m…sorry, that was really tactless, I’m…not…sorry.” She settled on that.

He turned to look at her a bit more directly. “Please. It’s alright. I’m…not angry. You made it quite clear that you knew quite a bit about me. I suppose…one of my goals was to know just…how much that was.”

Isabel stared. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” She said. She reached out and gently patted his arm. “I’ll…say this, just so you can maybe relax—I know just about everything, and yes, even the stuff you’re worried about. But that’s why I wanted to talk to you.” Her voice had suddenly shifted, and she spoke very steadily. “But it doesn’t have to be the first thing. I can tell how much those memories bother you, and I want that conversation to actually be…a conversation. So, for now,” she offered a smile and patted his arm before shifting away again. “Let’s just hang out and get to know each other—I want us to be friends, okay?”

Ozpin grew quiet. This…was _especially_ not the response he was expecting to receive. It was—

“And no, I’m not up to anything. I…really, really think we can be really good friends. Or…anyway…” she turned her gaze upward. “I’d think it’d be cool. I’m…a lil’ biased, but you were kinda one of my favorite characters. Just full disclosure. But you’re not perfect either, and that’s okay. So, let’s just try to become friends today.” She looked up at him and held up a hand. “Yeah? Shakey-bakey?”

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. He cracked a smile. “I…beg your pardon?”

“Shakey-bakey. You have’ta say it.”

He held back a laugh as he took her hand. “Very well, then…ah…shakey-bakey.”

“Man. You made even _that_ sound dignified.”

Over the past few hours, Ozpin arbitrarily decided that Isabel was a...strange creature. He knew it was rude to refer to a person like that, and he truly meant no ill at the thought.

It was just...difficult, to find a different word choice.

She was hyper-aware of her surroundings (to be expected), but at the same time...not. She had absently leant against a hard-light lamppost at one point, and it took for him pulling her away to register just what she had done.

Surprisingly, there was no damage. She explained that her palms were tough due to taking apart frames and breaking glass for a job she took up before going back to school.

She was extremely friendly and could be quite sociable...until she was not.

When speaking one-on-one with the employees in the town hall, she was very friendly and spoke in a lively manner.

Afterwards, she proceeded to hide in the bathroom after declaring she needed a ‘time out’.

She knew quite a bit about a lot of things, and yet she struggled to pronounce simple words, or even use them properly.

She was extremely focused, particularly in the art store.

...Until she was not.

Something told him that at particular times, it was not the wonder of being in a different world that distracted her.

She would also have the strangest outbursts.

In the middle of getting new clothes for her, she had a daunting realization that she was...’in an isekai’.

Apparently, it was a cause to be upset over.

She also enjoyed asking him questions. Quite a bit, actually. There were many questions that she asked simply about the logics and things that needed to be understood in order to reside in Remnant, and then there were questions that she would ask about in a hushed voice, referring to the older days of Remnant, and even about the time before humanity resurfaced.

And yet, she also was very cautious about how she presented her questions. Normally, people tip-toeing around subjects tended to, admittedly, annoy Ozpin just a bit. But he had a sense that she was doing it not particularly out of fear of him snapping at her, or even in a pitying manner.

It was out of respect. Simple, honest, and a little excessive, respect.

While Isabel was in the dressing room (she immediately wanted to change the moment they got her clothes), Ozpin sent a message out to Ironwood. He did say that they chatted quite a bit, after all. He was curious of what he thought about their new and sudden companion.

_Ozpin: Hello James._

_J. Ironwood: Hello! How’s it going out there so far?_

_Ozpin: It has been an...interesting outing._

_Ozpin: Might I inquire you about something?_

_J. Ironwood: Sure. What’s up?_

_Ozpin: I was curious about how she spoke with you._

_J. Ironwood: Huh?_

_Ozpin: I am just taking to notice that Isabel is quite cautious when speaking to me._

_J. Ironwood: Oh. That would...probably be my fault._

_J. Ironwood: I worded something poorly to her earlier. She didn’t like it. There wasn’t an argument, but... you know me._

_J. Ironwood: I'm sorry._

_Ozpin: Don’t be. I know it wasn’t your intention._

_Ozpin: I have a distinct feeling that it may not be whatever you said, truthfully._

_J. Ironwood: Now that you mention it...she seemed a little strange around me too._

_J. Ironwood: Maybe she’s still trying to figure out how to act around us. This is a very strange situation to her, after all._

That was true, but...

_Ozpin: Perhaps. Or it may be something else. We’ll discuss it later._

_J. Ironwood: You should let her come to the meeting tonight._

_Ozpin: Did I ever say I was not?_

_J. Ironwood: She seemed to think so. Not sure if that’s what’s going on, but I think she’s having a hard time believing that we’re pretty sold on letting her in. It’s not like there’s any other choice in the matter._

He is not wrong. There isn’t. With the events that took place in Salem’s domain, there is without a shadow of a doubt in Ozpin’s mind that Salem herself took the entire situation...personally.

She tended to do that.

But that still didn’t seem to satisfy his queries. It’ll have to wait for later, then.

_Ozpin: No, there isn’t._

_Ozpin: I have to get going. Thank you for everything yesterday, James._

_J. Ironwood: It’s no problem, Oz._

“Alrighty, I’m gonna just wear this,” Isabel stepped out of the dressing room wearing a yellow overall dress with a black turtleneck and stripped thigh-high socks. She also wore yellow shoes. They looked close-enough to converses.

Ozpin tucked his scroll into his pocket and stood. “Alright. There’s one last place we need to go to.” He paused to look her over. She looked pale. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah. It’s just getting close to my nap-time.”

That must have been her way of saying that she didn’t feel well.

“Well, don’t worry. We’ll make this trip quick.” Ozpin guided Isabel along and out of the store. “You need a scroll.”

“Oh yeah.” Then, Isabel grimaced.

“Something wrong? Are you feeling ill?”

“No, I’ll be okay, I just...feel bad. You’re spending a lot of money on me.”

At that, Ozpin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t laugh, I feel really bad about it!”

“I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that. I don’t mind, really. These were necessities. It wasn’t as though you could have packed for the trip.”

“...Nooo...”

“Precisely. Please don’t worry about it. If you’d like, consider this as a ‘thank you’. The information you provided yesterday truly was insightful. You may...also consider it as...an apology.”

“Eh?”

“If there is anyone at fault here, it would be me. I was the one who ultimately brought this upon you. And for that, I truly am sorry.”

Suddenly, it truly was out of the blue, she suddenly looked...quite upset.

“Never say that again.”

“I’m...sorry?”

“Ozpin, I’m being serious here.” Isabel grabbed his sleeve to stop his strides. “Sure there are a few things that you _did not_ handle well, and some things that maybe _are_ your fault, but not _everything_ is. Seriously. This was not your fault. It was my choice. Okay?”

Ozpin stared down at Isabel for a moment, and eventually he offered a small nod. He was about to start walking again, but much to his surprise, she took his hand in hers.

“This isn’t your fault.” She said that much more quietly.

Something about the words made his head buzz, and his turtleneck feel far too tight. He couldn’t find the words, and so he simply pulled her along the sidewalk.

They were much quieter after that.

But for decidedly different reasons.

Ozpin was doing everything in his power to swallow down his past, his fears, _their memories_. This seemed to only be the tip of the iceberg of their future conversation, and he wasn’t certain if he had properly prepared for it like he should have throughout the day.

Isabel, in the meantime, was struggling to keep up with Ozpin’s long strides. But she did not move to let go of his hand.

On one hand, she wanted to comfort the old wizard, as she could tell that he was a bit upset, and she was only good at giving words of comfort over texts, where she could properly evaluate her words. Therefore, physical affection, even to those who were mere acquaintances, were often the route she sought for, despite not being good at initiating it.

On the other hand...

 _SweetbabyJesushandsomewizardmanisholdingmyhanddoesheevenknowhesstillholdingmyhandbruhIliterallycan’trightnowohfuckmyhandsaregettingsweatythisdudeisnotjusthothe’s_ actually _hot._

Their silence broke when she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. Luckily, Ozpin had caught her before she hit the pavement. Unfortunately, her stitches hit his arm when she landed. He winced when she had shouted, and he struggled not to curse as he quickly (but carefully) eased her over to a park bench.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, I didn’t realize I was pulling you along like that—I am _so sorry_.” Ozpin knelt down so they were eye-level. “Are you alright?” He looked at her side to make sure there was no blood coming through. “Did any of the stitches break?”

“It’s okay—I’m okay.” Her voice was a bit strained. “Seriously, it’s cool. I wasn’t paying attention either. It just stung when I fell on your arm.”

“Are you certain? Do you want to head back?”

“Nah, we got one more place left. But can we sit here for a sec? My legs are all wobbly.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

They sat in silence for a minute or two.

“...Isabel.”

“...?”

“If...you don’t mind...may I ask that we have our ‘talk’ now?”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’s always quite empty in this park, anyway. We may not even have the time when we get back to Beacon.”

“Well...okay.” She looked as though she were deciding on something. Eventually, she turned to look at Ozpin. “I want to make a deal with you.”

“A...deal?”

“Yeah. I wanna promise you something, and I want you to promise something. _Actually_ promise. No fingers-crossed, no half-accepting or truths, no _lies_. I need your word on that, because as much as I admire you...you kinda have a shitty track-record with honesty.” Isabel stiffly stood, and she pushed herself off the bench.

“I want to be proof.”

Ozpin cocked a brow, but said nothing, and waited for her to continue.

“I want to prove to you that you _can_ tell the whole truth to people, and that they _still_ will want to help. To work with you.” She smiled. “To be your friend.” She held out her hand. “I want to prove it to you that you can still trust people. That it isn’t one of your mistakes. And if I do that, if you find yourself realizing that I’m right, you _have_ to tell them. You have to tell them everything. You know they deserve that much, at least. _But_...” she held up a finger. “You have to tell them on your own accord. I can’t make you, and I don’t want to make you. I just want to help you. _They all_ want to help you. But it’s kinda hard to do when they don’t know everything.”

Ozpin gaped at Isabel. “...But...I..I-I—”

“We’ll think of something! Together!” Isabel winked. “Truth be told, I _already_ have a plan.” When Ozpin sharply stood, she added; “But I won’t tell you unless you keep your promise. Not if you tell them or not—I just want you to keep your promise. _Consider it_. That’s all I’m asking. I’m doing this _for you_. You’re keeping all those memories and pain bottled up inside, I literally saw it on your face before we found out everything back home. It’s literally written all over you. You’re a constant internally screaming mess, but I’m not letting that fly anymore.” She grinned and motioned to herself. “So now you got someone to talk to! See? Doesn’t that seem nice?! It’ll be great!” She added as she threw up her arms. At his silence, her smile faltered, and she glanced away. “I just...wanna help. And this is honestly the only way I know how...aside from rambling about classical literature.”

Ozpin found himself to be... _stuck_. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to react. There was fear, and then _anger_ —how dare she make it sound so simple? How dare she pretend to care and be kind like this. _How dare—_

And then she hugged him, and a new wave of emotions struck him. It was similar to when four extraordinarily kind young women decided to stop at _his_ pathetic and stuffy home, and decided to show _his_ cranky and haggard self such...unfiltered words of advice and unapologetic kindness.

It felt a lot like then. And yet...not. Somehow, this felt...a bit stronger.

Perhaps it was because...for the first time in his life, someone else knew the whole truth. They knew the absolute and unadulterated truth, and yet...she chose, rather than yelling and cursing at him, to simply give him a good scold, some unfiltered words of advice and affirmation, and then top it off with a simple hug.

His body, mind and souls were _reeling_. He didn’t know how to respond. He _couldn’t_ respond. He tried to speak, but no words would come out. He tried to move, but his body remained still. He tried to breathe, and he even found that difficult.

He wasn’t sure he ever could have prepared for this. He didn’t deserve it. He really, really didn’t. He was a killer. He’s gotten so many people killed...an entire gene pool, in fact, was nearly eradicated by now.

He couldn’t even protect his own children.

The memory came so suddenly, and it made him want to rip a scream out of his throat—but he couldn’t even do _that_. He only stared at the open sky, up at the broken moon.

Isabel hugged him a little tighter.

“I believe in you. But you have to believe in us too.”

Never before had such words given him so much _hope_...and _despair_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure you've noticed but...this is going to be a bit of a slow-updater! I'm currently working on an original webcomic, so this isn't exactly a priority. That being said, the hard part of the story is out of the way, I think, so it may update just a bit faster! I also have a personal rule that a chapter can't be any less than 10 pages, so that is also why it took so long for this chapter to be posted. I hope you all are enjoying it, and are still finding the story relatable in spite of the personalizations taken here!


	4. This Will Be the Day We're Waiting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for some concept theories and a LOT of fourth-wall breaking? Let's see how many references you guys can catch now that we're getting into the core of the story! There's already a few here!
> 
> WARNING: This fanifction includes...  
> swearing, depictions of illnesses in severe cases, PTSD, violence, fourth wall breaking, swearing, meta commentary on society in reality and Remnant, mentions of death, an obscene amount of classical and fairytale references, and finally...swearing.

“Isabel...”

“Yee?”

Ozpin couldn’t seem to get over her dialect. He bit back a snicker before looking down at his...admittedly very short companion. She said she wasn’t even five feet tall, if he recalled...

“You said that you had a plan in mind...what was it you were thinking of? You sounded quite confident about it.”

Isabel grinned. “Oh! Well I wouldn’t say it’s technically only my plan...” she turned the chair Ozpin had set by his desk, and she leant against the back of it. “It was sort of something that the FNDM came to a consensus about. It’s not a hundred percent, but...I think the logic is sound. But like I said, I can’t tell it to you. Part of the reason why is because I don’t think the way I want to lay it out will even have a chance of working unless everyone knows.”

Ozpin raised an eyebrow as he absently raised his mug to his lips. “Is that right...?”

“Yee.” So very strange. “Also I think it’ll make you feel better. Also it’s kinda dicky to keep everyone in the dark.” She paused, and her eyes grew wide. “Oh shit that was rude. Oh shit, I’m so sorry—oh shit—oh fuck—fuck I’m cursing. _Fuck!_ Oh fuck I gotta stop—shit wait— _wait_ —oh fuckshittitsmcgee—oh fuck I can’t stop— _WHY AREN’T YOU STOPPING ME?!_ ”

Ozpin smiled behind his mug. “Because I find the contrast of your appearance and behavior to be quite amusing.” He set his mug down on his desk. “Also I...I won’t fault you for speaking your mind. You are clearly a very honest person. Brutally so, and I’d dare say it’s to a fault. Even so...you...” he sighed, closing his eyes. “...You aren’t wrong. I can’t fault you when you are being correct, either.”

“Yeah, but...” Isabel sunk into the chair. “Just because I don’t agree with it doesn’t mean I don’t get it. You don’t want them to lose hope. And...” she raised an eyebrow. “...you’re afraid that once they do know...they’ll work with her.”

Ozpin tensed. He drummed his fingers against his desk, and he eventually nodded.

“...Yes.”

“Like I said—I get it. It’s why I’m giving you time to talk when _you want to_. Trust me, it’ll be scary as hell still probably, but not nearly if they were to manage to figure it out on their own, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Just give it some thought.”

“Hmm.” The two turned their attention to the elevator door. Ironwood and Glynda stepped into the office.

Ironwood smiled. “Ozpin, Isabel! Glad to see you two didn’t get into any trouble!”

“Indeed. I’m impressed.” Glynda added dryly.

Isabel hesitated before looking at Ozpin. “Why are we...being held suspect...?”

Ozpin only sipped from his mug.

“...Don’t just sit there sipping your cocoa! You’re making us look _guilty!_ ”

Ironwood, Glynda and Ozpin all exchanged glances.

“...Why are you all looking at _me?!”_

The three burst into chuckles after that.

“So you know about that, as well,” Ozpin mused.

“You mean how everyone around you thinks you’re a caffeine addict like Oobleck except somehow you’re calmer, but in reality, you’re just sipping hot chocolate? Yes, I do know that.”

“How much do you know about us, exactly...?” Glynda asked as she walked over to lean back against Ozpin’s desk.

“Ehh...? A lot, and at the exact same time absolutely nothing. I know that Ozpin likes hot cocoa,” Isabel looked up at Ironwood. “And I know that you taint said hot chocolate by spiking it.” She added dryly.

Ironwood raised an eyebrow. “I...’taint’ it...?”

“Yes, you do, you monster! It’s perfectly good chocolate and you go an’ _taint_ it! With _scotch!_ ” She paused. “Actually, I don’t know what you put in it,” she finally shrugged.

“Well...you were pretty on the money, actually.”

“...Scotch?”

“Yes.”

Isabel seemed quite pleased with herself for guessing correctly. At least, that’s what Ozpin assumed from the way she pursed her lips and squinted while nodding.

She truly was strange.

The elevator door opened again, and Theodore came barreling into the room with Leonardo in tow. “ _Hel-lo everybody!”_ He called out. Leonardo squirmed free, and Theodore sauntered over to where Isabel sat. He ruffled her hair. “Good to see you again, tiny!”

“Theodore, she is not a _child_!” Glynda scolded.

“I _know_ , but...!” Theodore lifted Isabel up, and she did not seem sure of what to do with herself, and had opted for curling up. It only made it easier for Theodore to hold her out like a doll towards Glynda. “She’s so tiny,” he whispered.

Glynda held up her riding crop with a sigh. Isabel hovered out of Theodore’s hold, and was set down on her chair again. “Honestly, Theodore, you have to learn personal boundaries _sometime_.” She sighed.

“I know boundaries!”

“Really?”

_“I do!”_

Ozpin buried his face into his hands, and Isabel slinked away to the window. She looked over at Leonardo as he approached her apprehensively. He offered a smile.

“Good evening.”

“...Hi.” He’s not that Leonardo yet...he couldn’t be. At least not yet. Or rather...she really hoped not.

“This all...must be very strange for you,” Leonardo said. At the shared silence, he cleared his throat and brushed aside his tail. “I ah...assume you don’t have Faunus where you’re from.”

Isabel’s eyes grew wide. “Oh! No, no—I mean, there isn’t, you’re right, but that’s not why I’m being weird around you, I _swear_. Trust me if there’s anything you don’t have to worry about from me is racism. Seriously. But, if I say something that’s a little...well, you know...just up an’ tell me. I’m not from here, so uh...” she shifted. “I won’t know a hundred percent. I mean, I’ve seen what anti-Faunus people are like here, and...I can go off based off personal knowledge and experience but...you know.”

Leonardo looked a bit shocked at first. And then he smiled. “I...appreciate that a great deal. Very much so.”

_...What in the world did Salem do to him...?_ Isabel fought not to frown at the thought, but instead, smiled at the prospect that she was at the very least meeting the inner circle at their highest point. Maybe, with a bit of luck, she could even...

“Yeah...I get that.” She looked back at the small group. “So uh...is team STRQ not coming...?”

Everyone exchanged glances. Ozpin sat up in his chair and folded his hands over his desk. “No. Not tonight, at least. I’m giving them a bit to...allow the information to sink in.”

“Yee, alrighty—makes sense.” Isabel glanced around again. “So...uh...I’m guessing...you all want me to elaborate about what I talked about yesterday...?”

“If you are able.” Ozpin added. “I know you have made it very clear to us how much you wish to...keep balance.”

“What do you even mean by that, anyway?” Theodore questioned as he crossed his arms.

“I’m also curious,” Ironwood added as he walked over to the other side of Ozpin’s desk and leant against it. “You told the God of Light that...you didn’t want to ‘choose’ a side.”

“And I don’t. Seriously, I don’t.” Isabel stated. “Most of the time, I find that both sides tend to be both right and wrong at the exact same time. Depends on the subject of _how_ right and wrong the side is, but...you know. For example...” Isabel motioned around. “The Gods are assholes, this is _true_ , and some of the frustrations that even _Salem_ has are legitimately understandable... _but_ —” she held up a finger. “—murder is bad, destroying the world solves absolutely nothing, and mass genocide is also very wrong.” She motioned around, raising her brows as she looked expectantly at everyone. “It’s really not that hard to understand; everyone is always wrong and right. And that’s okay because there’s no such thing as perfection. Because without flaws, our entire existence would be completely pointless.”

Everyone grew very quiet for a long time, and Isabel was starting to regret her ramblings. Just a bit. People tended to get mad if you didn’t pick a side.

“...Summer and Isabel will get along just fine, I think.” Glynda stated evenly.

“I fear that may not be the same with the Brawen twins, from the sounds of what they are like,” Leonardo admitted as he looked back at Ozpin.

Ozpin folded his hands and leant back in his chair. He mulled over Isabel’s words for a moment. He looked up at Isabel again. “So. As Theodore asked...how do you intend to keep said...’balance’?”

“Oh!” Isabel’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, I’ve been thinkin’ about this all night!” She rushed over to the end of the office, and she pulled out her pen. She drew out a rectangle in the air, and it filled in as a hovering chalkboard. She looked back at the group. “Okay! So do you guys have a theory called ‘The Butterfly Effect’ here?”

“If we do, it may be called something else,” Glynda said.

“That’s alrighty—okay, so!” Isabel reached up and wrote at the top of the board “Butterfly Effect” and drew a line in the middle. “Let me give you two scenarios, and said scenarios are what gave the theory its name!” On the left side of the line, she drew in a quick gesture of a figure walking in a meadow. “Okay so, picture this; there’s a guy walking in a field,” below the illustration, she sketches in a foot and butterfly. “—and a guy almost steps on a butterfly. _But—”_ she turned to face them and held up a finger. She turns to the board again and draws the figure moving out of the butterfly’s way, and draws said butterfly flying away. “—he notices and steps out of the way just before crushing it. And the butterfly flies away.” Underneath that illustration, she draws in a bird, seeming to have snatched the butterfly mid-air. “The butterfly is then eaten by a starving bird. The bird is now no longer hungry, and lives to see another day.” At the bottom of the board, she draws in a road, and the figure walking across it. “The man walks across the street after looking both ways, and he continues his walk into town.” She looks back at the others again with a shrug. “Seems simple, right? Nothing special. _Wrong_.” She briefly points at the group with her pen before moving to the other side. She waves her pen over the first illustration of the man walking in the field. “Copy,” a duplicate of the illustration lifts up, and she moves it to the right side of the line. “Paste,” the illustration settles. She turns to the others and holds up a finger.

“Now,” she turns to the board and motions to the duplicate illustration. “Guy walking in a field.” She draws an illustration underneath it. A butterfly crushed under a foot. “He accidentally steps on a butterfly.” She draws another illustration, the figure seems distracted, looking at the underside of his foot. “He’s distracted, looking to see what he’s walked on, and walks across the street without looking.” She draws another illustration; a quick sketch of a bird hitting the windshield of a truck. “At that moment, a bird dies mid-flight, and falls out of the sky. It crashes into the window, and the driver can’t see.” She draws a final image, of the truck about to collide with the figure. “Because neither were paying attention; the driver hits the man, and he dies.” She looks back at the group, and steps to the side while motioning to the board. “Lo-and-lo; The Butterfly Effect.” She is quiet for a moment, and everyone exchanges looks. Isabel slowly walks over to them.

“Little things matter. They do. A _lot_. **_Especially here_**. Can you guys _seriously imagine_ what would happen if I gave you guys information about the future outright? Especially when, I can tell you for a _fact,_ that things _as small as that butterfly_ really do have _that much_ of an impact of what’s to come? So. Do you guys _really think_ , with how _delicate_ this whole situation is,” she motioned around Ozpin’s office. “—that it’s a _good idea_ to give that kind of information freely to _anyone_?” She smiled and held up a finger. “So. That’s why I decided to give the information in _riddles_. By discussing the fairytales that’s inspired this whole world to begin with!” She grinned. “A good story has a good single lesson; a _great_ story will provide you with _whatever lesson_ that you _need_. And...guys,” she held out her hands and laughed. “You all are based off of some of the _greatest stories_ in classic literature.”

“So...if I’m understanding this right...” Leonardo stroked his beard and considered. “...You have to simply hope that we’ll be able to understand what you mean based on the story you tell us? That...the information you give us, and how reliable it is...”

“...will depend _entirely_ on us.” Ironwood finished.

Isabel nodded with a light shrug. “More or less...yeah, pretty much.” She said. “There might be times where I’ll just give you the explanation outright—if the situation, I decide, is truly not that impactful in the grand-scheme of things. There might be times where, even if the situation is of life and death...I might not talk.”

A still silence wafted.

Isabel’s brows knit. “Look, it’s either that, or the _whole world_ goes out-of-whack because I spilled information that might have never been meant to be brought to light. And, considering the fact that _similar themes_ are what caused this whole mess with Salem to begin with, _I ain’t taking any chances **unless I think I have to**_.” Isabel rested her hands under the straps of her overall dress. “I know you may not like it, and it sounds dickish, which I know it _kinda is_ , but that’s the strategy I’m going in with this. And if you all don’t like it,” she motioned towards the elevator. “—then Imma head out. I seriously wish I could tell you everything, but I seriously don’t think I should. Maybe some details—and I’m talking like... _crumbs of nuggets_ here—but I’m being vague because, honestly, it’d all be pointless anyway if I just told you how to solve your problems and whatever shitstorms head your way anyway.”

“In other words, the only way we’ll ever be able to _properly_ get out of whatever messes comes our way, it’ll have to be solved by _us_ and not...” Glynda glanced up as she searched for the right word. “...a bystander.”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Isabel’s brows arched, and she rubbed her arm as she glanced around. “I know that this all sounds stupid, and weird, but...the only way we’re gonna get through this is...well... _together_.” She looked at Ozpin directly, and smiled. “We can _do this_. We _can._ I _promise_. I have a plan. It’s a bit of a long-haul, and the results won’t even be yielded until...hell...” Isabel squinted and placed her hands on her hips. “...hell, maybe twenty-something years from now.” She looked back at the others. “But hey, think of it like this...Salem _always_ plays the long-game. At this point, as far as I can see, when it comes to perspective, Salem and I are evenly-matched.” Isabel grimaced. “I think.” She added. “But—but the _point is—”_ Isabel waved her hands out in front of her and hung her head.

“Salem can always predict things, but it’s always in the not-very-far-off-future. Like. Maybe she can think ahead up to ten years. I _literally_ know what’s gonna happen in about twenty or so years’ time—and I _may_ have a few snippets of info that can help me piece together things that _will_ happen _soon_ ,” Isabel beamed. “With that behind our backs, we can _finally_ tip the scale, and you’re _finally_ at _even odds_ against Salem! “ She hesitated, and briefly glanced around, lingering on Leonardo before standing back to properly look at everyone directly. She held up a finger. “Guys...we get... _one shot_ at this. And it _needs to be **perfect**_. But I can’t do my part if you guys don’t help _me_ , to _help **you**_. Okay?” Isabel’s confidence faltered, and she looked a bit drained as her posture slumped. “So...” she looked at Theodore. “That’s what I mean.”

Theodore slowly nodded, and he leant back against the windowed wall. “...I gotta hand it to you, girlie...from the sounds of things...you’re playing up a big high-win or high-lose.” He said.

“You’re _already_ playing a high-win, high-lose situation!” Isabel protested. “I’m just trying to _even the odds_ , and maybe even, just a _little_ , put some cards in of your favor.

The gears tocked loudly in the silence of the room. Isabel bit at her bottom lip as she waited for an answer. A look, a glance, a word...something.

After a few minutes, Ozpin rose from his chair. “Very well.” He leant against his desk, and he stared at Isabel intently. “What do _you_ suggest we do then? At this moment, how would you plan your next move?”

Isabel stared at Ozpin. Everyone stared back at her. She pressed her cheeks together, glanced around, and puffed her cheeks. “...Can uh...you guys...uh...tell me what’s going on first...?” She mumbled. “I literally have no idea what’s going on right now. Like...now, now.”

The tension in the air lifted a little when Theodore snorted.

Ozpin blinked. “...R...right. Yes, of course.” He sat down in his chair again, and he motioned to the chair beside his desk that Isabel had been sitting at. “Why don’t you sit back down?”

“Alrighty.” Isabel looked back at the board and walked over to it. She waved her arms, and they phased through as the image faded away into mist. She scurried back over to her chair as it disappeared into nothing. She paused, counted on her fingers, and motioned her pen to the chair before pointing it out in front of Ozpin’s desk. Four duplicates of the chairs plopped down with echoing clatters. The sudden noise startled Leonardo, and he yelped as he recoiled back behind Ozpin. Everyone chuckled as the faunaus peered out, offered an awkward-but-polite thank you to Isabel, and everyone seated themselves.

The tension had cleared.

“Well, first-things-first,” Ozpin looked over at Isabel. “As I have mentioned, I am allowing team STRQ to take in the information about...” he motioned around. “...the situation, to...sink in. I’ll be giving them three days. I have just given them the information this morning.”

“They were _supposed_ to find out yesterday,” Glynda added, giving Isabel a pointed look.

Isabel’s brows raised. “So wait...you’re saying that I dropped in _right when_ team STRQ was supposed to be a part of the inner circle?”

Everyone nodded. Isabel slouched back in her chair, and she squinted as she cupped her chin with her hand, squishing her cheeks as a result. “ _Hm._ ”

Ironwood raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“No, I just...find that interesting.” She glanced around. “I wonder if that was the idea...”

“Meaning?”

Isabel sat up in her seat. “Like...what if that was the intention from the start? To drop me off right when team STRQ was supposed to join.” She tilted her head and glanced up. “In hindsight, it actually makes a lot of sense.” She looked around at the group. “I’m sure I can say this, as it’s not really that much of a shock, but team STRQ is considered a pretty big staple in the timeline. In a lot of ways, a lot of fans see team STRQ as the technical starting-point to what we see.”

Ozpin considered. “So essentially...team STRQ marks as a moving point to whatever awaits us in the future; good, or bad.”

“More or less, yeah.”

“How fascinating...” Leonardo mused as he stroked his beard.

“Are they going to be just as much of a headache for me as when they were _students_?” Glynda groaned.

Isabel squinted and pursed her lips. “...Imma say yes...because it’s probably true. Probably.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I can’t tell you guys much about team STRQ, and it’s not even because of the reasons I talked about earlier,” she shrugged. “I just don’t know in general.”

At this, everyone stared at Isabel and waited.

“...Well, you see—and I’m not saying whether this resulted in a good or bad thing, because...well, you know. But to be totally frank, whatever happened with team STRQ is actually considered one of the biggest mysteries of the whole _series_.” She shrugged. “I mean...the FNDM has guessed, and some of them may be right, some may be wrong, but...nobody really _knows_ for sure. We don’t know a _single_ adventure from them. Not one. Nada.” She said.

Everyone mulled over the information.

“... _Very_ interesting,” Leonardo said.

“I agree.” Ironwood said. “It’s also...admittedly concerning.”

“I unfortunately agree with that, as well,” Glynda sighed.

Theodore groaned and hung his head back over the back of his chair. “What’s the point of sending girlie here if she doesn’t even know the details to begin with?”

Isabel shrugged. “Like I said, I think it’s because they wanted me to be there at the starting point.” She looked at Ozpin. “It’s the only explanation I can think of, anyway.”

Ozpin thought. He recalled the first reincarnation...suddenly being dropped in at what seemed to be a particular point, rather than settling on sending him back at the start of when humanity _truly_ began to resurface. The similarities of the circumstances were there...

“She’s right.” Ozpin finally said. “It’s similar to how I was handled.”

Everyone nodded.

“So...what else is there...?” Isabel asked.

“We’ve also been investigating the disappearances of those with the trait of Silver Eyes,” Glynda said.

“Hunter or not,” Ozpin finished.

Isabel winced with a hiss. “Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. How’s that going?”

“From your reaction, I’m guessing it won’t end well, will it?” Theodore asked.

Isabel considered. She started to speak, but stop. She squinted. “...Ehh...well,” she scrunched her nose. “...actually, uh...I don’t know that either, if I’m bein’ honest.” She finally said. “I mean, _at first_ I thought it was one thing, and then the other, but...honestly? After thinking about everything that happens in hindsight...yeah, I actually don’t think we really got a straight answer about that, either.” Isabel concluded. “Again, there are speculations, but...” she grimaced. “...recent bombshells have...kinda twisted shit up in a way that’s got me thinking that there’s more to the situation than what meets the eye.” She paused before glancing around. “Uh—pun...not intended.”

A few chuckles resounded.

“But anywho...” Isabel thought for a moment. “Uh...I’ll just say this; regardless of how it ends, from the way I’m seeing it, the end-result may not be as definite as it appears.”

Some exchanged looks, others nodded.

“But...seriously though. How’s the investigation going?”

“Well,” Glynda crossed her arms and legs. “—one thing we noticed was that the more famous Silver Eyed warriors aren’t being targeted.”

Isabel hummed. “Salem doesn’t want to draw any attention.”

Ozpin nodded. “That’s what we believe, yes.”

“Smart move, but obviously word is still gonna get out regardless.” Isabel’s brows knit. “Okay, serious question; have there been any bodies found?”

Ironwood shook his head. “No. No bodies; sometimes not even a sign of a struggle.”

“It really is like they just up an’ vanished,” Theodore concluded.

Isabel glanced down and frowned. “... _Hm._ Yeah, I...don’t like that.” She finally said.

“Indeed.” Ozpin laced his fingers as he leant against his desk. “This has always been a constant. More often than not, Silver Eyed people would disappear, rather than be killed. It’s been like that since they began to disappear.”

Isabel looked at Ozpin. “ _The Warrior in the Woods_.”

He nodded.

Isabel sighed and slumped in her seat. “Well... _well_.” Everyone looked at her. She stopped, and then considered. “I...” she sighed and hung her head back. “Actually...I might hold on giving that one.” She said. “I think it’s something I could and _should_ get into, but...” she sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. She scratched through her curly locks as she leant against her legs. “I just don’t know if it’s something that I should wait to talk about, or _how long_ to wait if I do. I feel like timing is gonna be everything with this particular information.” She finally explained, looking up at Ozpin. “Honestly, it’s not even completely solid,” she shrugged. “It’s just a theory. But the problem is...” she grimaced.

“...The problem is...?” Glynda prompted.

“...Well, so far, anyway, my theories have been...I’d say...eighty to eighty-five percent correct.” Isabel looked around. “When you spend several years studying classical literature and fairytales, media based off it becomes kinda easy to predict. That being said, there’s the consideration of ‘creative liberties’ that have to be taken into consideration as well, as well as the lore and logic _your_ world functions on. So either it’s right, or it’s wrong. But so far, my _broad_ theories have been correct. Especially when making comparisons to this,” Isabel pulled out The Book from her satchel and waved it.

“Well...” Ozpin looked down at Isabel and smiled. “Why don’t you tell us what the theory is on? And we can at the very least provide insight as to if you should discuss it or not.”

Isabel glanced around, and considered.

“...Yee, alright. That’s a pretty good idea, actually.”

Everyone’s postures straightened, all seeming to brace themselves.

“Well...what is your theory on, Isabel...?” Leonardo asked, a bit hesitantly.

Isabel sighed.

“...It’s about why I personally think people with Silver Eyes are more often than not _going missing_ , and _not_ just being assassinated right on the spot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legitimately didn't expect to get a chapter out so soon! But this is admittedly a little shorter, so sorry about that! These next two chapters are honestly a pretty good example of what this fanfiction is really like at its core; I'm much more of a dialogue and analysis writer rather than a person of action, but obviously there will be some because its RWBY and that would be insane. But if you are coming here for a shit ton of action, this honestly won't be the story for you. Things might not pick up for a pretty long time until I reach the point that we finally hit Volume 1--and that might honestly not be for a good while yet.


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